


forgive my sins

by kousenjuu



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Agenda: Let Tsukishima Kei say the f-word, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Anxiety, Background Relationships, Break Up, Grad School to be specific, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, JUST HAVE A CONVERSATION FOR CHRISTS SAKE, M/M, Multi, Non-Linear Narrative, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Post-Break Up, Self-Doubt, Slow Burn, Swearing, Unreliable Narrator, but you'll just have to stick around to find out which ones ;), no beta we die slow painful deaths surrounded by comma splices and typos, so slow the author would like to intervene and slap them silly, tagging "petty bitches" because they are fucking petty bitches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28383735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kousenjuu/pseuds/kousenjuu
Summary: Eight years was all it took.Eight years for Tsukishima Kei to fall more deeply in love than he'd ever thought he would.Eight years to finally have the chance of catching up to the man of his dreams in his grasp.And eight years for everything to fall apart.[alternatively: Kuroo and Tsukki break up and finally have to face all their problems because in love and in life, communication is key.]
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i.... have no words. i just, implore you to give this a chance. this is entirely self-indulgent. i just needed grad student tsukki plus some angst to fluff, and then this whole thing happened. 
> 
> PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO TAGS! i will update them as we go and hopefully remember to make a note of them when i post. i have tagged this as angst, so i promise it's coming, things just start off slow. updates will be... slowish? i have 1/3 of this written and the rest outlined, but it's gonna be a long ride. and i tend to overthink everything, so i might get caught up in edits and doubt so wish me luck.
> 
> feel free to come yell at me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/reeeeiiiiigun) and give me motivation and confidence to post.

Kei woke to the shrill of his alarm. The sun had yet to breach Tokyo’s horizon and a few stray stars blinked in the navy-gray of the hour just before dawn. He rolled over and, unwilling to get up and face the day just yet, fumbled for his phone to hit snooze. 

Despite his best efforts to grasp a few more moments of sleepy peace, his brain took the alarm as a signal to start running through the same useless thoughts it had been holding onto these past couple months. 

Fed up with such things so early in the morning, Kei huffed and pushed out of the comfort of his bed. 

He felt for the light switch and grabbed his glasses off the nightstand. Trudging across the room, the blonde stopped at the kitchen counter to set the kettle on and rummage around for his container of instant coffee. 

A yawn escaped his lips as he blankly surveyed the dim-lit space. Clothes laid scattered about the floor, dresser, and on top of the few, miscellaneous boxes that weren’t covered by a quilt in a corner of the small studio. Dishes crowded the meager counter space and the recycling which was supposed to be taken out last Friday sat forgotten and overflowing by the door. 

Akiteru would be appalled by the mess his brother had produced for someone usually so anal about his living space.

The blonde poured himself a cup of coffee and ignored the mess for the nth time this month. After a couple scalding gulps, he pulled on the least wrinkled pair of slacks he could find, a white and black plaid button down, and, after a bit of thought on how chilly mornings had gotten, decided to hunt for a sweater. 

His hands instinctively reached for the well-worn, over-sized red knit draped, forgotten, over the desk chair. 

Kei froze. He tiredly stared down at the sweater in his hands and narrowed his eyes just slightly. Wadding up the sweater, he buried it in the bottom of the box of old high school T-shirts he never wore anymore and shoved his head through a chunky, muted basil jumper instead. 

Between swallows of the shitty excuse for real coffee, Kei gathered his things. The three papers he was scouring last night were stuffed into his bag along with his laptop, charger, and mouse. 

He double- _triple_ -checked that the small bag with his hard drives and various flash drives was exactly where he left it in the inside pocket of his bag. Despite the relative safety of keeping everything in the cloud, having other, physical copies in his hands was the only thing that quieted his anxiety when he went to sleep at night. One last swig of not-strong-enough-for-existence-today coffee later and Kei dumped the rest down the drain. He rinsed the mug, left it on the counter, and grabbed his keys and phone.

An unfriendly, cold October wind greeted him as he pulled open the door. Barely suppressing a shiver, Kei slipped back inside the small apartment and dug around for a scarf. Coming up empty-handed, he let out a tired groan and tugged at blonde curls in defeat. _It wasn’t that far of a walk to the station anyway_ , and he trudged out into the cold again and locked the door behind him. He wouldn’t freeze. He’d be fine.

Cursing the world for becoming too cold already—it was barely the first week of October, what the fuck was this weather?—Kei stuffed his hands into his pockets and strode quickly in the direction of the station. 

Kei hated the cold. Late fall into winter temperatures always made him feel like he could never quite warm up. Winters in the city somehow felt colder than those of his hometown; Tokyo trapped him inside a cage of freezing metal and honking cars rather than the warm houses and open air of Miyagi.

Although that might simply have been an angry bias since his life had changed so drastically from the peaceful years of middle and high school to the chaos of university and now grad school. Things had gotten harder (adulting was such a pain in the ass) and it would be a lie if he said that being a graduate student studying evolutionary genetics at a better-than-decent university in Tokyo was anything but arduous.

But Kei enjoyed it. It was hard work, sure: the hours after hours spent in the lab analyzing data only to find it errored and unhelpful; the late nights scanning through papers looking for the right citations; and the presentations met with the middle-aged Japanese men version of scoffs and rolled eyes (which was, in fact, just harsh criticism thinly veiled behind “helpful” advice) definitely tested him. 

But working to complete a thesis that was worthy of a job at the National Museum of Nature and Science was a feat Kei was determined to achieve. Even if it _was_ near impossible for a recent grad to be hired on as staff. 

And by summer, Kei was intent on claiming that position. There was no one else in his department, in Tokyo even—save for a few useless old men with credentials that could be considered worthless after finding they only cared for the pay and status rather than the actual job and research—who was more qualified than he. He had already managed to work there on the weekends, so it wasn’t like the jump from part-time to full-time was that huge. And once Kei had a PhD in his hands, the world had better watch the fuck out. 

Although first, he had to get his thesis committee’s approval and then successfully defend the research he’d poured his soul into over the last three years. But what was life if not a long-winded journey to prove your elders wrong and rise above them?

Kei shuffled onto his train, grateful to be sheltered from that blasted wind, and reached for his headphones. Which were _not_ around his neck. Fuck. 

With an exasperated sigh, he pushed up his glasses, pinching at the bridge of his nose, and wondered just how bad today would be, after this bad omen. _How could he forget his headphones, his only respite from the constant and irritating sounds of a life out to spite him?_

The sun had just started peaking over the edge of Japan by the time he reached his stop. Checking his phone, Kei sarcastically sent a silent prayer up to whatever evil gods were laughing at him today. He’d at least have an hour or two of peace before both his morning meeting and his PI burst into the lab demanding his help on whatever ridiculously mundane tasks he thought up on this bright Tuesday morning. 

It wasn’t like he only had about five months left to finalize his thesis or just a few weeks to complete and submit the edits for the two papers his research group was trying to publish before the end of the year. _Of course_ he had time to make the powerpoints for the class his PI was supposed to be teaching himself, and _of course_ he could come oversee their exam next Wednesday night. 

Oh well. Being forced to stay busy meant he didn't have time to dwell on or even pay mind to any of the dumb, dismal things that lurked in his mind. Recently, they’d come to such an abundance that they threatened to overflow, but he didn’t have time for that. He didn’t have time to agonize over anything but his thesis or his time spent in the museum.

Despite what his best friend said, Kei was fine.

As if that thought somehow summoned that green-haired, freckled devil, Kei felt the telltale buzz of his phone in his pants pocket as he trudged up the station steps. It was Tadashi, asking if he ate breakfast. Then, asking if he wanted to get lunch this week sometime. Then, some nonsense about how he ran into Hitoka on the train again and how they talked the whole way and how it might be fate. 

Kei chose to ignore the first and last messages, gracefully refraining from sending a snarky _How can it be fate when you two went to the same university and then got jobs at the same company,_ and responded with a somewhat ambiguous _Thursday?_ He locked his phone, slipped it back into his pocket, and headed towards campus. 

The blonde scanned himself into the archaeology building and trudged up the stairs to the third floor. The place was dark and quiet, with barely anyone but a janitor and a few professors and graduate students in yet. 

Kei unlocked the door to his lab and forwent flicking the light switch up to let the rising sun be enough light for him to make his way over and set his stuff down. 

His side of the bench by the window was as cluttered as he’d left it yesterday. Papers were scattered across black tabletop, sticky notes of various colors attached to them seemingly at random, and notepads and a few pens were strewn about. A couple books on python and archaeology were stacked near the window, pages dogeared and bookmarked with scraps of paper. His empty silver water bottle sat next to two abandoned paper coffee cups, their edges stained brown. 

Kei dropped his phone and bag on the bench top and slumped down into his chair. Shivering slightly from the residual chill of his commute, Kei, with a huge yawn, reached into his bag for his laptop. 

His phone buzzed as Tadashi sent another string of messages, but Kei didn’t bother checking them. Instead, he typed his password into his computer and opened the document he was working on yesterday. He fumbled for the papers in his bag without looking away from his screen and knocked over a cup of pens in front of him. With a hissed swear, he picked them up and was halfway through shoving them back into their University of Tokyo mug when golden eyes focused on one of the pens in his hand.

A pen with a black cat lounging on its cap, licking one paw to its tiny pink mouth.

It was too early in the morning for him to hide his flinch. Instead, he turned his gaze out the window as if the pen would disappear if he just didn't acknowledge it. 

But then, all the messages from Tadashi, from his brother, from Suga-san of all people, that he’d selectively ignored the last couple of weeks—well, months, at this point—flashed across the glass before him. 

Kei’d answered the first of all those messages months ago but, still, people kept asking him the same stupid questions.

_How are you doing?_

_Do you want to meet up?_

_Do you want to talk abo--_

No. It’d been months. Kei was over it. Kei was _fine_.

He inhaled sharply. Held it for a count of ten. Then released the breath slowly. 

Turning back to the pen in his hand, he jammed it back into the cup, upside down. 

_On second thought, no_ —and he grabbed the pen and chucked it at the trash can by the door. It hit the rim, bounced off, and rolled under the fridge. Out of sight, but not truly out of mind. Fitting.

Forcing his thoughts back to his work, he settled into the quiet October morning and soon forgot about the pen, those old messages, about everything but the edits and citations he needed to add to this draft of his paper. Only stopping to message Tadashi back; mourn the absence of his headphones when the undergrads exploded into the room as only young, naive kids could; and email the draft of both papers and the presentation he’d finished to his PI—that he definitely sent yesterday, but whatever—Kei was grateful that at least his Tuesday morning had fallen back into its normal routine of thesis work and all its interruptions. 

• • •

“You don’t get it, _Tsukki!_ I can’t just go _ask her out_. She’s still way outta my league,” Tadashi whined over his sandwich.

“League? What league?” he gave his friend an unamused glance over his bottle of water. “We’ve all been friends since high school—you're the same age, how could Hitoka-chan be out of your league? Stop being such a coward. Either make a move or get over it.”

“So heartless~!”

“I like to think of it as realistic.”

“Ugh! You’ve been such a sourpuss ever since—” Tadashi caught himself with a cough. “Well, anyway, you could at least humor me a bit, Tsukki~”

“Why should I humor cowardice?” Kei gave his friend a pointed look before glancing out the window at the busy Tokyo street.

“It’s not—”

“It is.” Kei interrupted. He pushed himself up with a sigh, grabbed his tray, and headed for the trash. When he returned, he tugged his bag over a shoulder and checked the time on his phone. 

“You’re leaving already? You didn’t even eat much!” The freckled man pouted from his seat at the table. 

“I only have so much time to do nothing in a day, Yamaguchi. The fossils aren’t going to clean themselves,” he answered monotonously, looking down his nose at his friend.

“Hmmm… isn’t that what undergrads are for?”

“If only they could manage that much.”

Tadashi laughed lightly, “Fair enough.” 

“I’ll see you later then.”

“Ah, Tsukki...” Tadashi hesitantly met Kei’s gaze. “Are you free Saturday? You’ve missed the last couple times, but Shouyou has a bit of a break from—”

“No thanks.”

“Are you sure? I’ll even make sure to get your favorite cake…”

“I work at the museum on the weekends,” went his blunt response.

Tadashi’s face fell a little and he fiddled with his straw, “You’ve uh, you’ve been a lot busier with work and stuff lately…”

“There’s a lot to do.”

“...Y-you’re probably right,” his friend smiled brightly although Kei could tell it was a bit forced. “Well, have fun! If you ever have any free time, just shoot me a text!”

“Right.” Kei nodded and started to walk towards the door.

“Uhm, Tsukki? _”_ Tadashi called after him.

He turned to look back at his friend.

“We’re, uh, we’re always here for you if you need us!” His smile had turned a bit down at the edges and his brow furrowed slightly.

Kei held Tadashi’s gaze for a couple quiet seconds and then pushed open the cafe door and headed back to campus. 

• • •

“Ah, Kei-san! Is your boyfriend not coming for lunch today either? Do you wanna grab something with us?” 

It took everything within him to not visibly flinch at the question. _Things were still too fresh._ He was sure of his decision, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t painful. Kei’s golden eyes flashed with an unconcealed glare for a split second as he turned jerkily toward Sakura, who froze at the sight. 

“Oh, uh, I’m so sorry!” she quickly backtracked, waving her hands in front of her. The stricken look on his PI’s other PhD student’s face drove Kei back to reality. 

“...You don’t have to apologize,” he muttered and looked away, fumbling to regain his usual cold, expressionless composure.

“Ah no, but…” Sakura frowned and set her jaw, “I am sorry. I shouldn’t make assumptions, but it’s clearly not a subject I should bring up right now. It’s my bad.” She gave him a too-bright smile and repeated, “Would you like to get lunch with us?”

Kei opened his mouth to politely refuse, but she continued, “The kids from down the hall are coming along and I know you don’t like crowds, but you’ve been holed up at your desk for like five _hours_. Come get some sunshine while it’s still summer! We’re checking out a new cafe a few streets over and I’ve heard they have a great strawberry shortcake...” she trailed off with a wink. 

He eyed Sakura warily; he should never have told his class his favorite food was strawberries. Word spread like Australian wildfire that scary/grumpy/probably didn’t smile at cute kitten videos Archaeology TA, Tsukishima-san, loved strawberries. He’d said _like_ , not _love_. And just because that was his icebreaker fun fact did not mean that all his students, the undergrads in his lab, and his fellow peers needed to go out of their way to give him strawberry things. Sakura had persisted until she found that Kei had a particular fondness for strawberry shortcake. And now she was using that against him.

But, _fuck_ if his favorite dessert wouldn’t make his day a thousand times better.

With a disdained glance at the papers scattered around his laptop and the twenty or so tabs open to even more papers on his computer, Kei sighed and turned back to the red-haired girl. 

“Alright, I’ll go.”

• • •

The sun was blinding as they walked to the cafe. Reflecting off every car and every store window, Kei was harshly reminded that the real world existed and that meant the sun still shined, despite everything that had happened in the last couple months. Recently, he’d found himself almost wishing that rainy season would come back because at least then, the humidity wouldn't be pointless and the sun wouldn't be shining happily down from its place in the sky like it was rubbing all of Kei's past mistakes in his face. Not that he'd made mistakes. But if he _had,_ he was thinking that the sun would make him angry. 

Sakura was gesturing broadly ahead of him, making some of the first-year grad students laugh at a story Kei hadn’t tuned in to listen. The red-haired girl definitely knew how to command a crowd. If it wasn’t for them working under the same PI, Kei was sure they’d never have interacted; she was the exact type of person he went out of his way to avoid. Or maybe she would have forced her way into his life like the rest of his friends did, anyway.

Sakura was a nice girl, a brilliant student, and Kei was glad that she was the other grad student in his lab because if it were anyone else, he would have had a much worse time of grad school. Sakura never got discouraged by his lack of social effort or the permanent disapproving scowl that had made its home on Kei’s face since he was a kid, and she never took things too far either. She respected his boundaries, and although she was as good at picking up on his moods as Tadashi is, she never directly addressed them. Kei was rather grateful for that. 

Tadashi should take a page out of her book for once.

As their group rounded a corner, Kei caught a glance of something on the opposite side of the street in between the cars whooshing past. 

A familiar, completely unrealistic but somehow unrelenting, white-gray coiffure sat atop a figure talking animatedly to a shorter, dark-haired figure obscured by a truck next to him. At least, that was what Kei assumed, since the only person who would put up with Bokuto’s usual hyperactive antics would be Akaashi. 

Kei didn’t wait to find out, however, as he nodded a silent thank-you to Sakura and slipped through the door she was holding open. He refused to glance back as he ducked into the small cafe whose sign read _Le Petit Amour_. 

The cafe was chic: all natural wood, white counter tops, and greenery. True to Sakura’s word, laid out on the carefully decorated shelves of a glass case by the register were numerous different cakes and pastries. Kei paid no mind to the rest of the display as his honey eyes immediately centered on a beautiful array of shortcake, cream, and strawberries upon a green-rimmed white platter. 

As the students in front of him babbled to one another and debated over the sandwich and coffee menu, the blonde-haired man did a sweep of the cafe. 

For just opening a couple streets over from a college campus, the place was quiet and vacant. Bookshelves lined the back wall and small coffee tables littered the space. Plants hung from the ceiling, sat in corners, and ivy was artfully wound across the top of a pale white marbled bar that bordered half of the cafe. 

One person sat hunched over a laptop at the bar in front of the floor to ceiling windows that faced the street. Minimalistic geometric art hung on the walls and the lighting was dim compared to the August sunlight streaming in through the front. 

Kei immediately decided that he liked the place, even without testing the rumored cake, and mentally bookmarked the shop on his short list of places to stake out. 

A messy bleached-blonde with a mischievous grin and a tongue ring took their orders at the counter. His name tag read “Yuuji” and featured a dopey smiley face sharpied next to it. The shorter man rang Kei’s order up with an attentiveness unlike his image: holding eye contact for almost too long, smoothly offering suggestions when Kei hesitated in ordering something other than just dessert, and handing his card back with a half smile and a wink that spiked a fresh wave of giggles from his company at the tables they’d pushed together. 

Any other day and he’d have immediately turned down such flirtation, but in tow were his colleagues and fellow students, and perhaps their tomfoolery spurred him to play along, if only for a bit. Kei gave the cashier a nod and the smallest smile he could muster before breaking his gaze and turning around. 

Kei walked over to their table, warily eyeing the excited looks on their faces, and took the empty seat next to Sakura. 

She turned to him, not even bothering to conceal her grin, “Did you get his number?”

Kei frowned, purposely being indifferent, “No. Why would I?”

“Agh dang it! No dice, kiddos.” She sighed, exasperated, and dramatically draped herself over the table. 

She looked ridiculous, all of 26 years old and pouting on a table. 

“If he brings us our food...” Kei started, throwing her a bone.

“...He could still give it to you!” she perked back up, a blinding smile on her face. Smacking Kei on the back, she leaned back in her chair, “Leave it to Todai’s best archaeologist to come up with such a big brain idea!”

Kei pushed his glasses up with a sardonic smirk, “Oh, so you’ve finally figured out who’s ahead in this department.”

This brought about a round of laughs and _ooh’s_ and Kei relaxed into the company of the vibrant, excited people that surrounded Sakura. They reminded him of his high school days and the over-excited people who, too, forced themselves into his once-peaceful life. Perhaps this pattern was a sign for what lay beneath his cold, apathetic countenance and the people he seemed to have a knack for attracting to his side. Frowning slightly at the thought, Kei raptly chose to ignore it.

To Sakura’s delight, Yuuji did bring their food out to them and, next to a strawberry syrup heart on the plate holding Kei’s shortcake, was a folded piece of receipt paper. Sakura and co lost their shit over it, and he tucked it into his pants pocket with a shake of his head. They could hold onto their childish fun, he decided, purposefully not crumpling it on the spot, and forwent his recommended sandwich for a bite of cake. 

And oh boy did _Le Petit Amour_ make a damn good strawberry shortcake. It almost reminded him of days past, when he stood in a small apartment kitchen sampling different versions of cake and cream, a smile shining in his eyes and on his cheeks.

But those days were long gone, abandoned like a forgotten handkerchief on the side of the road—dirtied by his own foolish selfishness and all but lost to the greedy clutches of time. 

Kei shook off the thought, trying not to let his stupid head ruin the perfectly good cake in front of him. He forcibly switched gears, turning to listen to what Sakura was rambling on about now, rolling his eyes and scoffing at the appropriate times. He even held a lingering gaze from Yuuji with a smirk, looking up through his lashes as he sipped his coffee. 

By the time they’d returned back to their labs, he’d forgotten all about the resurfaced memory, his belly pleasantly full and blood singing happily in his veins with their glucose and caffeine gifts. 

Later, when Kei stood in front of Akiteru’s apartment digging in his pocket for his keys, a folded piece of paper dropped to the ground beneath him. He picked it up, sighed, and unlocked the door. 

A thought struck him then, as he threw the note away without a glance to its contents: He wouldn’t be able to go back to the cafe for a bit, or else he would be forced to face the consequences of his actions. And that was a shame. _Le Petit Amour_ had really good desserts. 

Hmmm… But wasn’t that what friends were for?

So he pulled out his phone.

To: Tadashi, sent 21:37 _> > I’ll come over Saturday if you get cake from that new place down the street._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some lingo notes just in case (also if there's ever anything that comes up in later chapters that you don't know, please feel free to comment; i'll do my best to list out things in the end notes, though):
> 
> PI - stands for "principal investigator" but is just a term for someone who's the head of a lab (usually a tenured professor)  
> Todai - Japanese portmanteau for "Tokyo Daigaku" or the University of Tokyo  
> (i will be using Japanese terms for the things that don't have good English translations, so bear with me and get ready to learn some random vocab ^^;)
> 
> i'm also sorry... the non-linear timeline is meant to be a little confusing/vague at the beginning of each new part, but i do make sure to define what time/day/month/etc it is relative to the present/past. 
> 
> also the cafe name is deffo an homage to batman's krtsk fic series i couldn't help myself


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags have been updated~  
> (nothing super triggering in this chapter, though that will...... change... so be mindful 😘)
> 
> i am impatient if nothing else, so here's a very short update because waiting here for the next update makes more sense in my braaaiinnn
> 
> until then-

Kei went on runs late at night while the weather was decent. And sometimes even if it wasn’t. 

He left the archaeology building late. A silver moon peeked through the clouds above, barely visible past the orange glow Tokyo perpetually gave off. Kei shuddered into the knit scarf wrapped around him and all but sprinted to the station to catch his train. 

It had taken him so long that his eyes ached in time to the frantic pounding of his heartbeat in his temples, but rounding 11 o’clock, Kei finally finished the mountain of work he was presented with just this morning. 

He’d spent hour after hour furiously typing, bent over on his computer, switching between tabs faster than he’d ever had to before and cross-referencing papers he didn’t have time to read anything but the abstracts and intros of.

Today was one of those days again.

The type of day where Kei would have given anything to simply exist outside of himself. To step out of his body and, in doing so, step away from the things and responsibilities that incessantly dragged him down. Even if only for a few seconds of respite. 

His annoyance and frustration had been mounting since this morning, building until they were no longer annoyance and frustration, but something more tangible and cruel. 

He hated it. It was as if he could only sit and watch things escalate, like watching a storm brew on the horizon but you were tied to the front porch and couldn’t do anything but wait for it to hit. He was stuck waiting—waiting for things to intensify, to crash and burn and fall apart, waiting until he exploded under the pressure and he could finally stoop to pick up the pieces. 

There was nothing he could do to stop his mind from falling back into the well-worn ruts of days past, all reckless self-destruction and numbing irrationalities.

Somehow, today, there was very little he could do to deflect and work around the things that usually triggered him. 

And Kei had gotten rather good at managing his anxiety after it began with an existential crisis at the ripe age of 5 that his poor parents didn’t have an answer to—because what do you say to a child freaking out about how everything just _ends_ one day, that everything you do is all for naught? It peaked with an incident in high school that left Tadashi calling his mom in complete distress when Kei had a panic attack so bad that it left him dissociated and unresponsive on the scuffed tile of an unfamiliar bathroom in a Tokyo high school.

Since then, he’d taken great care to never get too stressed and to always have a handful of tools in his metaphorical back pocket for such fits. He absolutely despised the feeling of losing control. Regardless of that being one of his main triggers, it also became one of his biggest motivators. Kei knew he would never completely discard all the irrational worries that circled his brain, but he learned how to redirect his energies and focus on other things rather than that taunting internal dialogue of his. It was hard work and the learning curve had been huge, but he’d been able to reach the point where he could work through some pretty major incidents on his own. 

But in terms of major incidents… Well, that usually meant he’d have to address them at some point. Instead, a particular Big Incident (some would argue, the _Biggest Incident)_ had quite literally been shoved to the corner with a blanket haphazardly thrown over it in a lazy attempt to mask it.

Thus, it was only karma that Kei be reminded in the worst of ways that there were plenty of reasons why his therapist had gone to such lengths to teach and remind him why good coping mechanisms were important. 

He knew better, of course, than to put it off, but… Things were _complicated,_ and he had more important things to worry about, more important things to focus on, right now. 

Shit seemed like it was going to hit the fan around mid-afternoon. 

Kei’s PI decided to dump a week’s worth of paper edits onto Kei’s desk with a note that read only “do by tonight” and then disappeared from his office to probably the red light district let’s be real here god knows where. But even after he’d recruited Sakura to help with the edits (on her birthday even, bless her), the other TA for Kei’s class suddenly called him about an emergency involving their roommate and left Kei dutifully insisting that _it’s fine, he’ll cover their night discussion session, don’t worry about it_.

After frantically forcing out some edits in the afternoon, rushing through the discussion session, dismissing it 20 minutes early, and hurrying back to finish up the paper after Sakura had apologetically bowed out to pick up her parents at the airport (because it was her birthday and she shouldn’t be here helping him in the first place), Kei was exhausted from being on edge all day but was too wired to sleep. 

He stepped off the last train back to his stop, one second away from snapping, after 25 minutes of foot-taping, finger-fidgeting, and forcing his breath into a semi-normal rhythm. He’d long ago abandoned trying to still his hands from their nervous ticks and now sported a broken zipper on his jacket to prove it. 

Kei barely recalled making his way up the steps to his brother’s apartment or taking off his clothes, but there was a trail behind him that served as evidence as he found himself squatting down to dig through the still-unpacked box of t-shirts and pulled one on at random. He grabbed the well-worn pair of black track pants he now either lounged about or rage-ran in and the old tennis shoes he’d tossed under the bed after his last excursion. Kei stuffed his head through a grey sweatshirt and shoved his headphones back over his ears, blaring music while he tied his shoes and attempted to reign in his heartbeat. 

It didn’t work.

The blonde was bursting through the front door, keys and phone in hand, when the crescendo of his thoughts finally became too much and his heart started doing that thing where it felt like it wasn’t working correctly but he was still alive and somehow hadn’t spontaneously combusted from the sheer amount of energy it was using to keep up a pace like that. 

And then he was running.

Running down the stairs. Running across the sidewalk. Across the street. 

Sprinting down the familiar path to a small park about two and a half kilometers from Akihito’s apartment. 

Leaving everything—the paper edits, his selfish PI, all the ridiculous self-hate plaguing his brain—behind, he let himself slip into autopilot and allowed his fight-or-flight response to take over.

Streetlights and cars and people and buildings blurred by him. 

It had surprised his therapist when he brought it up—and sometimes it backfired—but more often than not he’d found it extremely therapeutic to simply run. Running like this never felt like he was giving up control. No, with this, he willingly gave in and let his biological response run its course. It was plain and simple science, and knowing that was what allowed it to work. Pace be damned; Kei just let his legs take him wherever, let them decide when he was no longer in danger. 

Although, it was best if he ended up sprawled on the grass somewhere, gasping for breath, because that, at least, felt more normal than being curled up in a corner of a room facing the same problem. 

By the time Kei came back to himself, the night was quiet and his heart had slowed to a more reasonable pace. Sitting, head between his knees beneath the gnarled branches of a Japanese evergreen, he let his eyes slip closed. An October breeze chilled his sweat and he shivered. He laid back, thanking the gods that his run had worn out the parasite living in head. Kei pushed aside his glasses, threw an arm over his eyes, and focused on the feeling of the grass beneath him and the sound of the guitars blasting into his ears. 

Here, like this, he allowed himself to think. 

Because he needed to. Because, _goddammit Kei_ , he couldn’t keep ignoring all the thoughts in his head. 

There was an order to things. There was a way about which he needed to go to correctly fix his problems. He was a functioning adult who could manage a little frustration here, a little heartbreak there.

Or, at least, he’d been busting his ass to act the part for the last couple months.

And he’d almost convinced his audience; he’d almost convinced himself. But how much must the world test him? Wasn’t he just a minuscule dot in a corner of the universe? Was he not simply following the same path that had been carved out by many before him? Why did simply existing have to be so goddamn hard?

Why did it seem like the fates were cackling, pulling the rug out from under him, so he fell on his face, stuck in the same place he’d been for ages?

The same place; the same thesis; the same hollow sadness bordering on disappointment. The same frustrating, fickle busywork; the same condescending looks from superiors stuck in their ways; the same battle in his mind for chaos or stability. It was like the same three songs were playing on repeat through his headphones; at the beginning, they were new and interesting, but he’d grown tired of them long ago.

Kei was _tired_.

The blonde-haired man let out a laugh, hard and cold into the night air. 

He’d always been the type to relish routine and hate surprises, to never get bored of the same things and dislike those outside of his comfort zone. 

And now, somehow, the same Kei found himself wishing for a bit more spontaneity, some surprise—literally _any_ interruption to his daily routine. Because those things made it easier to cope, to stay on track, to not lose hope. 

A trip to a cafe he’d only ever walked by. A note left in his research papers signed with a stupid emoji. A text that he’d respond to monotonously, but smile about for the rest of the day.

Small things that broke up his repetitive schedule, stuff he’d never initiate but had come to expect. 

It didn’t have to be good things either. It could be a small, petty argument; a couple hours of waiting only to give up and go to bed slightly downcast; a bit of stress that didn’t have anything to do with school or work. 

But now? Without the small things that had needled themselves into his routine, Kei was tired. 

He vaguely wondered when these feelings began to culminate; where did they begin? When had things shifted so desperately? How did he not notice? He’d come so far already; Kei was pretty sure this path was the one he wanted. And there wasn’t anything else he wanted. 

Ah, but that wasn’t entirely true, was it?

Kei sat up, dragging his knees into his chest, and stared into the darkness ahead of him. A light flickered just out of sight and Kei didn’t know if it was the lone park lamp or his own realization. Trees swayed in the wind, whispering the world’s secrets in an unknown tongue. Kei clicked the volume down until his music was a low hum at the back of his head and tried to listen for once. Leaves fluttered with shadows in a complicated dance as they leaped from wooden limbs and spun to the ground. They didn’t tell him what he wanted to know, but the dots connected in his head anyway.

 _He wanted something else._

Something that made his boring, mundane life something more. Something that made his ever-present anxiety agonize over petty things rather than existential crises; something that, despite everything, had stayed by his side and had promised even more. 

Something like… like his ex.

But he had walked out on that something. That someone. He’d made the decision to leave.

And here he was. Reflecting—no that wasn’t quite right— _regretting_ it? Was that what this absolute mess jumbled up in his brain was? Kei’d been so sure of his decision then and even in the months after. But now, October passing, he was regretting it? 

How ludicrous. 

Pushing himself to his feet, Kei fixed his glasses and shuddered. He’d stayed still long enough that the night chill was creeping in, settling into his bones. His phone read well past midnight. 

Kei stepped out from under the big evergreen tree, re-entered the real world, glanced up from his phone, one hand pulling down his headphones, and froze.

Staring at him, a look of shock unbridled and unhidden, was the last person he wanted to see right now.

Kuroo Tetsurou in the flesh.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please check tags! cw // anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of alcoholism
> 
> i tagged unreliable narrator because when it comes to mental health problems, they kinda do make us think far from the truth and convince ourselves of things that aren't true. this will continue for a bit into the story before people come to terms with things, but for now, don't trust everything you read! (that sounds ominous oh lord but you know what i mean!)
> 
> for those who might be triggered by descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks, feel free to skip over the part! I have bracketed the scene in particular with lines (---), so just scroll past and I'll put a summary of what happened down in the end notes!
> 
> now then- hop on the angst train and let's go~~

His first impression of the third-year middle blocker and captain of his high school’s rival team was _annoying_. 

Granted, with his disposition, Kei had a tendency to think of most everyone as annoying right off the bat (and even as he got to know them, that sentiment didn’t usually change). He didn’t really enjoy meeting or talking to people, new or old. Kei just wanted to float through high school, play some volleyball, and move onto the next step in the logical path his life would take. 

Kuroo Tetsurou was anything but logical. 

He smashed through obstacles effortlessly with a smirk like that of a hungry panther knowing it had cornered its dinner. He was crafty, worked his hardest to throw you off his trail then looped back around and ambushed you. He provoked, god did he provoke; Kuroo said the things he knew would send you off and plucked the reaction he wanted from your clammy, defeated hands. 

And for some reason, he’d singled Kei out, deciding one-sidedly that Kei was his next target. 

Tsukishima Kei was never one to step down in the face of a challenge, but volleyball was something he’d long thrown in his pieces and given up on. He had no reason to rise to the occasion. He was just here, partaking in high school activities, checking off that box on his to-do list. Was he not making that obvious enough? 

It was just a game, anyway. 

Why should he try hard for something he didn’t really care about? He wasn’t going to get anything out of it. In the end, even if they became the best, they’d be torn down by someone better. That’s just how the world worked. Why suffer so much just to lose?

Kei tried to ignore it then. 

He ignored Hinata and Kageyama and their stupid, reckless passion and one-track minds. He ignored how they inspired the rest of their team to try harder. He ignored how his team’s desires to change and evolve seemed to push him into a corner even more as he remained obstinate and unwilling. 

But after a day full of losses and sprints and desperately acting like his usual apathetic self, Tadashi pulled a brick from his already-teetering tower. 

“Aren’t you going to practice on your own?”

The accusatory _Are you really not going to do anything to better yourself like the rest of us_ was implied, and Kei, already on the edge of everything, didn’t appreciate it. 

But Tadashi didn’t know. His best friend didn’t know what his mind was running him ragged about, and Kei knew he didn’t really mean anything else past the innocent question. 

Kei frowned a little harder than normal, but at least his voice didn’t hold any of the bite that the thoughts in his head had.

“We’re already practicing more than anyone wants during the day. Going more all-out isn’t going to solve anything.” 

He left, striding out into the humid night biting his tongue and clenching his fists. Things were getting out of hand, he knew that, could tell by how unnerved he felt, but he couldn’t quite put a name to the feelings bubbling up within him, quickening his pulse and making him grind his teeth. Kei decided he would just ignore them, too, and go to bed. He was going to go back, brush his teeth, turn the shower to as cold as possible, and freeze whatever was creeping up on him in its tracks. And then sleep. Because there wasn’t a better reset button than sleep.

But a voice cut through the darkness. 

It was Nekoma’s captain. The person he least wanted to deal with right now. But his usual polite smile didn’t work; Kuroo’s golden cat eyes saw straight through Kei as he aimed his offhand comments at the spaces in Kei’s armor. Kei _knew_ that. He knew he was being pulled in, but his hands reached out and grabbed the bait, desperately wanting to prove someone, _anyone_ , wrong about what they thought of him. _They didn’t know._ They didn’t know what he was going through. 

He begrudgingly obliged to jumping blocks for Bokuto because it was the easiest way to get Kuroo off his ass. If Kei could just humor him until the training camp ended, if he could just bite his lip and contain his frustration, if he could just do the least to convince his teammates that he was still trying…

But Bokuto innocently called him out. Called him weak. And then Kuroo, cunning, taunting Kuroo, smirked that stupid, handsome smirk of his and purposefully brought up the one thing he knew he shouldn’t. The one, unspoken thing that slammed on the breaks in Kei’s head as it was racing, plotting how to get by _just barely_ , _how to fake things even more_ , and it sent him reeling. 

Kuroo smiled smugly, a tad condescending, as he pulled the last brick holding Kei’s tower up, as if he enjoyed watching the blonde boy crumble. 

“Talk like that and Chibi-chan’s going to hog all the glory. You play the same position after all.” 

* * *

Everything past that was a blur. 

Kei shifted into autopilot as his brain laughed at him and his easily exposed weaknesses. He excused himself quietly, said fuck it to his forgotten knee pads, and managed to hold himself together long enough to return to the room they were staying in, grab his toiletries bag, and escape to a bathroom. 

His heart was racing, his palms sweaty, and he couldn’t quite seem to gather enough oxygen into his lungs. Kei stumbled to the sink, shaky fingers scrambling to yank the faucet open, but they never got that far. The blonde boy made the mistake of glancing into the mirror, and then his whole being shattered apart.

He looked unhinged, eyes wild and chest heaving, and that was enough. 

Kei gasped, clutched at his shirt, and stumbled back. His legs decided of their own accord not to properly do their jobs, and he tripped over his own leaden feet, falling to the floor hard as his world fell off its axis and plunged into chaos and nothingness. 

He was choking. He could barely see. Tremors engulfed him and a river of panic exploded out of his chest. Words swirled around him, muffled voices mocked him, and he scraped his nails on now-fuzzy blue tiles beneath him. 

He couldn’t tell what was going on—didn’t know—nothing made sense. All he recognized was fear and the unyielding pressure of unspoken expectations, limitations, and _those words_.

Kei’s muscles moved against his will, clenching his teeth, curling him in on himself. His heart pounded out of his chest and, as a sharp spike of terror drove up through him, he realized something: _he was going to die._

That thought alone pulled him all the way under. _He was going to die, here in a random high school in Tokyo, from choking or- or a_ ** _heart attack_** _—do people his age even_ ** _have_** _heart attacks?!_

But death didn’t bring the sweet release he was craving, no, his brain made sure of that—laughing at him, replaying all his mistakes, forcing him to relive failure over and over. Kei didn’t want to die, especially not if it was going to be this painful, this terrifying; he didn’t want to be here, on the floor of this shitty bathroom, delirious and suffocating. He needed to escape, needed to run, but nothing was listening to him; his own voice was drowned out by the demons in his head. 

And the loudest one was screaming at him in frenzied, hysterical delight. 

_Your blocks are weak! Your arms are so frail I’m afraid I’ll break them— weak! So weak! What a waste of space! You don’t deserve to breathe!_

_You’re a middle blocker right? Couldn’t you use the practice?— can’t even do the one thing you’re good for! Height is all you’ve got. And you’re not even going to use it! What a sad sight. You deserve this._

_Hinata’ll hog all the glory… you play the same position—_

_You will never compare to him! Effort always pales in comparison to talent. Not that you’ve any effort. Because you know you’re never going to be good enough. That’s why you stopped trying, right? Because there’s no way to stave off failure, in the end. In the end, you’re going to become just like your brother. Rejected, picked over for someone younger, someone brighter, someone better._

_Your teammates despise you, your brother betrayed you, you can’t even hold onto something you once loved. You’re one step closer to pushing away everything you’ve ever had. It’s funny, even Yamaguchi looked at you with scorn earlier. Even your best friend is tired of you. But that’s alright. You’re tired of you, too._

_Bokuto-san is right—you’re so weak. You give up control so easily. All it took was one push and you jumped right into the darkness, ready to fade away._

_You’d die so easily._

But— _no! I don’t wanna die—_

But there wasn’t anything left in Kei; he couldn’t feel the cold floor beneath him or the wall behind his back anymore. He couldn’t recall where he was or what was happening. He thought there might be voices, noise of some sort, but the thought didn’t get any farther. In fact, most thoughts didn’t really exist in his head at the moment. 

The fog that had settled around him after the initial, seemingly endless panic, blanketed him. It sheltered him from feeling his racing heart and gasps for air. His brain was still cackling, overflowing with its harsh truths and sharp stabs, but Kei wasn’t really listening anymore, _couldn’t_ listen anymore. He was curled up on the floor, eyes unseeing, and just kind of floated in and out of reality. In and out of existence. Someone might have been shaking him. He might have just been shaking. Someone might have been calling for help. He might have been manifesting his own thoughts into realistic hallucinations. Kei couldn’t tell. 

The only thing that filled him as he clutched at his legs, digging blood with his fingernails from the backs of his thighs, was manic laughter and Kuroo’s 

“You’re going to be surpassed.”

* * *

Kei had exactly a millisecond to decide if he should make a break for it.

After narrowly dodging the panic attack earlier and proceeding to come to terms with the mush in his brain, he _really_ didn’t think he could handle this. But his body was apparently done running tonight because, much to his incredible duress, he just stood there, rooted in place, eyes wide, like the idiot he was.

 _What was there to say? What_ could _he say?_

People don’t just small-talk at almost one in the morning when they run into their ex. Especially an ex with whom things had ended badly. Internally agonizing over what words to say and ultimately coming up empty, Kei’s eyes wandered.

What shocked him was how the other man appeared to be out on a run as well, clad in his worn-out, old Nekoma tracksuit. Kei had chosen this park specifically because he never wanted to run into anyone he knew. And yet, like all his karma was cashing in tonight in one big effort to clown him, here stood his ex, sweating in the cold October night with a look of complete terror on his face.

The raven-haired man looked worse for wear, but that could have been due to the whole run-into-your-ex-when-you-least-expected-it thing. It had been over four months since they’d last seen each other, but Tetsurou had changed considerably. He’d lost weight, had almost impressive bags under his eyes, and his hair was even more of a mess than usual, longer and unkempt. Tetsurou just looked less like himself—his once bright hazel eyes were now dull and dark under the park lamplight. 

In the passing seconds of Kei’s inability to come up with anything to say, Tetsurou recovered first.

“Oh, hey,” he offered, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning back into his usual cool, calm, and cocky persona. “Fancy seeing you here. Didn’t think I’d see you ever again.” 

Kei jerked his head up, meeting Tetsurou's gaze once more. It was completely different from the dull, dead look from just seconds ago. Now, an angry fire blazed in those piercing cat eyes. The raven-haired man cocked his head to the side, one eyebrow raised in petty accusation, and it was as if that small movement dragged a dull knife under Kei’s skin, slow and burning. 

He could probably still run. Tetsurou would probably understand. Or, well, he wouldn’t, but it wouldn’t matter. Kei could probably still run. _He could probably just—_

“...Yeah,” he mumbled, breaking the blame-laden staring contest and training his eyes on the ground in front of his ex’s beat up tennis shoes instead. The sudden tension in the air made his stomach curdle and he shifted his weight back and forth between his feet. 

“I, uh, went for a run…” Kei weakly tried again, frowning at the grass in front of him, “...was just heading back.”

If they could just ignore the elephant in the room and let each other pass by. If they could just go back to their respective nights like nothing happened. If they could just—

“Oh? Me too. Although I’m impressed you still live so close. Would’ve pegged you as the type to completely move towns. Ah, but you couldn’t. Still have school.” Those hazel eyes were boring two holes into Kei’s head, but he refused to meet them.

“I—”

But the elder continued, “And speaking of school, I hope your thesis is going _fabulously_ . You’ve no _distractions_ now, anyway.” 

_Oh_. So that was how he wanted to play. 

Four months worth of anger instantly burst to the surface and boiled under Kei’s skin. He narrowed his eyes. Tetsurou’s last statement wasn’t a simple sentence, it was a challenge. _And Tsukishima Kei never backed down from a challenge._

“Ah, my thesis?” the blonde boy drawled, golden eyes hardening into his most vicious glare. “It’s going just fine, but I’m surprised you even _remembered_ I was working on it.” He raised an eyebrow and smirked at the man in front of him, all venom and ice, “Residency was keeping you so busy and all.”

His last statement wiped Tetsurou’s taunting half-grin from his lips and his face contorted with rage. _Perfect._

“Arara, I’m sorry, did that upset you?” the blonde laughed mockingly, knowing full well it did. Using the 6 centimeters he had on Tetsurou to his advantage, Kei drew himself up and peered down his nose at his ex, glasses glinting under the lamplight, “Didn’t want to be reminded of your priorities? It’s alright—no need to deny it. I knew I was below your job, below your future.”

“You should thank me, really, _Kuroo-san,_ ” he added that last bit in, icy sharp, “for doing all the work, leaving first.” He strode forward, past the raven-haired man. 

Pausing just behind him, Kei threw one more dagger over his shoulder, “Ah, but no surprise there—I _was_ the one putting all the work into that relationship after all.” 

Kei stalked back the way he’d come, victorious, white hot fury pulsing through him, and did his best to ignore the huge clump of guilt that had settled into his gut. 

• • •

Fuck Kuroo Tetsurou. 

Fuck whatever he was feeling earlier, after his run. There were no second chances. The world wasn’t that merciful. _He_ wasn’t that merciful. Eight years together hadn’t meant nothing to Kei. In fact, those eight years may have been rough, but they were the best he’d ever had. Kei would give anything to have them back, but he also knew the difference between possible and impossible. 

They were never meant to work out. Kei knew that.

Everything Tetsu did, he did with passion burning, leaving everything in the vicinity scorched-black, all life sucked out to fuel the blazing fire that was Kuroo Tetsurou. The man lived for thrill and hungered for the best of the best. Being with someone as apathetic and indifferent as Kei was like mixing francium and water—explosive and short-lived. It was a wonder they lasted eight years. 

They were never meant to work out. But Kei wanted them to. Like he’d never wanted anything before, he _wanted_ Tetsu, wanted _them._

So he put everything he had into their relationship. Kei made compromise after compromise for them: he studied hard, late into the night after practice, and came to Tokyo the minute he could, despite his intense fear of leaving home for such a high-pace city. He moved in with Tetsu during his second year of college even though the apartment was an hour and a half train ride from his school so they could see each other more than just on weekends. He stuck through all the sleep-deprived bite and ridiculous arguments they had as Tetsu conquered med school and Kei set his sights on a PhD. 

Eight years hadn’t meant nothing to Kei.

In a way, being with Tetsu pushed Kei farther than he thought he’d ever go. He joined a V.League team in Tokyo in the last years of his undergrad even if it meant quitting the part-time job he loved. He’d always wanted to be an archaeologist, having obsessed over dinosaurs and history from day one. But he would have been fine working at a museum closer to home, rather than aiming for all the credentials that would land him a job at the National Museum of Nature and Science. 

Being with Kuroo Tetsurou provoked him into aiming higher, to reach for a place where he could stand eye to eye with his boyfriend. Kei’s inner inferiority complex loved to scream about the differences between the two of them, and that motivated the blond to set his jaw because _fuck it, I can do that too._ He refused to be left behind. 

Kei worked his ass off to get to where he was, but the distance between them only grew. Tetsu continued to sprint forward, the world opening easily under his confident smile and impeccable prowess, while Kei struggled, enduring hardship after hardship, setback after setback. 

Their relationship was simultaneously all the love in the world in all of the best ways and an ever-present reminder of his biggest trigger: failure.

Kei put all his effort into _them_ and that meant he couldn’t afford to burden their relationship with anything else, no matter how trivial. He worked hard to manage himself, to shrug off his personal problems, to inhabit the life of a normal, top-shelf dream-aspiring person because that was who Kuroo Tetsurou deserved. 

It wasn’t that he’d gone out of his way to hide the state of his mental health from Tetsu, it just never got brought up. And Kei was fine with that. It wasn’t Tetsu’s problem, it was his, and he could take care of it himself. 

At least, that was what he kept telling himself.

Such a mindset ended up hurting worse, of course. Because Tetsu never knew his triggers, he remained blissfully unaware of the chaos rattling around in Kei’s brain threatening to take over whenever Tetsu said something he didn’t mean. And whenever his blood-alcohol levels ran too high, Kei's boyfriend did have a tendency to say things he didn’t mean. 

Sure, med school was difficult; Kei would never personally dream of aiming that high, but it came as a surprise to him that his boyfriend, the ever-capable man of his dreams, leaned onto alcohol like it could support the weight of 189cm of lean mass plus all his problems. It couldn’t—of that, Kei was sure. 

But still, Tetsu persisted, citing his rivalry with Daishou, the unexpected talents of Shiratorizawa’s old middle blocker, or claiming that if he didn’t try harder, he’d fall behind. Kei knew this wasn’t true, and made sure to remind Tetsu as such. Kuroo Tetsurou didn’t need to be perfect. What mattered most was what he wanted, not what others were pushing him to want. 

In the end, it didn’t matter; nothing changed. No matter what Kei said, the alcohol problem was hard to approach, and it just upset his boyfriend. Kei didn’t want all of their conversations to be fights, so he let it slide. He took all the offhand comments, the low blows about his work ethic and even lower hits to his pride, his thesis work, with a tight smile. Tetsu never remembered them anyway - they weren’t worth bringing up. 

But they chipped away at Kei’s walls of support and stability, slowly weakening him until the day everything would collapse. There were only so many fits of sobs stifled into towels in the bathroom, hidden behind the _shaaa_ of the shower, that he could handle. There were only so many late night calls to Akaashi, only so many trips to the bridge down the street where he could safely scream his throat out under the loud, steady pulse of the expressway; there was only so much he could handle himself.

Kei should have brought it up. They should have talked about it. 

Of course, hindsight was 20/20, but back then, Kei simply attributed his frustrations to himself. Thoughts like _I should be able to handle this, everyone else does_ and _it’s not a big deal, it’ll be more of a hassle if I bring it up_ and _stop crying over stupid things_ constantly whipped around in his mind. He scolded himself for being childish, over-sensitive, too needy. They were cheap excuses, but they did the job.

Kei never even spared a thought for what it might have been like had he been open and talked to Tetsu about things. He was so caught up in his devilish balancing act that it was never an option.

His boyfriend might have been understanding and supportive, they might’ve worked through things together. _It might have only taken one conversation._

But they did none of that, and the further they fell into their own respective holes, the more Kei blamed himself for it. They both had so many things they needed to discuss, so many problems to dust off and drag into the light, yet Kei never felt like their relationship falling apart was anyone’s fault but his own.

He should have worked harder, should’ve been more understanding, should’ve been a better boyfriend. It was obvious that he was more at fault. 

But, looking back, it wasn’t too much to ask for some consideration. It was perfectly acceptable and normal to want the compassion and time and effort that he was giving but not exactly receiving back. Kei knew that now, a little older and a little wiser from breaking his own heart, but what could he do about it?

He didn’t want to just give everything up, but with their interaction just now… Well, no matter if he was more aware of what he wanted and where they’d messed up, he was still angry. Could they not just talk about things like the adults they were? Did they have to be petty and bitchy? It was stupid. It was _exhausting_. 

Kei figured he should just give it up, but that was easier said than done. No matter what he resolved to do, he couldn’t just simply gather up eight years of his life and leave it outside his door when the trash pickup came every Tuesday. Besides, relationships were two-way streets. He shouldn’t be the only one agonizing over this. Tetsurou had fucked up too. 

Throwing open the door to Akiteru’s apartment, he kicked off his shoes, a scowl set deep into his face. Kei scrubbed at his eyes and tried to massage the creases out from between his brows before giving up and throwing himself onto his bed, burying his face in the pillow. This was stupid. He’d been trying to make his night _better_ by going for that run. But life just had to throw him this curveball and set him back to square one, didn’t it?

Kei didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t see the point of overthinking all of this. And yet he was. Overthinking. Fretting over scenarios that would never happen because he couldn’t step down from his high horse and apologize. Fuck his feelings, his dumb brain, his ridiculous pride. Why couldn’t he just admit that he missed Tetsu?

Why couldn’t he say what he really wanted instead of going off and letting rage spin lies from his tongue? 

After four months, Kei had come to a conclusion. He’d decided what he wanted, or so he thought. He thought they might be able to be civil, that after a while, after figuring things out, maybe they could start over. Even if it was just as acquaintances or friends. But tonight proved him wrong. He was still angry. Tetsu was angry. It seemed like Tetsu hated his guts. So Kei’s original plan was trashed, and now he had no idea what to do. 

Kei fell asleep like that, headphones still around his neck, sweatshirt hood over his head, feet stuffed into a blanket. He fell asleep fuming and, absurdly enough, sad. If they couldn’t salvage their relationship, couldn’t salvage even their friendship, why couldn’t he just get over this?

Fuck Kuroo Tetsurou. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> summary for all my friends who made it down here:
> 
> tsukishima meets kuroo, decides he doesn't really like him. as per canon: at the summer training camp, yams stops tsukishima before he leaves for the night and asks him if he's going to do any extra self-practice. tsukishima isn't, and leaves, anxiety ramping. he just wants to go to bed. then kuroo calls out to him and tsukishima agrees to jump blocks if only to get kuroo off his butt. kuroo says his thing, "if you talk like that, Hinata'll steal all the glory - you play the same position, right?" and it sets tsukishima off. he goes back to the dorm and runs to a bathroom and has a panic attack (a pretty bad one, i'm so sorry tsukki love). and then things switch back to the present. 
> 
> i hope it wasn't too bad of an update... wasn't as long as i wanted it to be but oh well. i hope for those that read through the panic that it seemed realistic - i based things off my own experiences, but i'm a bit worried about the pacing... things always seem to escalate for me veryyyyy quickly, so i tried to write that, but i'm not sure if it worked out well. 
> 
> anyway, this note got long - thanks for reading! kudos, comments, etc. are much appreciated (or come yell at me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/reeeeiiiiigun)), they're literally my lifeblood as i work through this piece!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys i am the biggest clown in the entire freaking world!!!!
> 
> if you haven't noticed, this is chapter four. _after i posted a chapter four like two weeks ago or something._ but!!! this is the REAL chapter four and somehow i didn't notice i posted the completely wrong chapter until almost a week later 😭😭😭 i'm sooo sorry omg
> 
> i know some of y'all have read that one already.... but aahhh! this is chapter four. for real. i promise. the one i posted last was supposed to be chapter five so just bear with me here and forget you ever read it 😭😭
> 
> anyway, this chapter has a bit of panic/anxiety in it, but no true attack, so i'm not going to separate anything but be warned! 
> 
> once again i am so sorry.. i can't believe myself

Kei slammed the front door. _Fuck today._

It was hot as hell; the June sun had quickly risen to the challenge of attempting to fry him alive on the Tokyo sidewalks and he was not a fan. Usually Kei didn’t mind the heat since he’d only have to bear it for his commute to work; lab rooms had controlled temps and humidity, and he always needed a jacket. But today? Today was terrible.

“I’m back,” he managed to force through gritted teeth into the empty apartment. 

The blonde kicked his shoes off, reminded himself that he couldn’t chuck his bag at the ground because his laptop was not rage-throw resistant, and strode down the hallway. He needed a bath. Or a drink. Or both, honestly.

• • •

Kei had to collect himself in the bathroom for a couple minutes after the absolute suffocation that was the heat trap known as the subways in summer. It was a good thing he thought ahead and forwent changing into his dress shirt and tie before the commute over from campus because the train had been cramped and stifling and there was barely a breeze outside to make up for it. As Kei patted off his sweltering skin with paper towels in the (thank gods) air-conditioned bathroom, he sighed. He already didn’t want to be there. He already didn’t want to do this presentation. The field recognition would be worth it, he knew, but even after countless successful presentations on his research, he still hated them. 

Kei wasn’t even supposed to be at this one; his PI had shucked it off to him only a week prior so he had to rush to prepare. Such was Annoyance No.1. 

The blonde tugged on his white shirt and buttoned it up with a scowl. Popping the collar, he slipped the slim black tie around his neck and methodically saw to the knot. Dressed and more or less ready to go, Kei pushed out the stall door and spared a look at himself in the bathroom mirror. His cheeks were still a bit flushed from the heat, so he leaned over the sink, discarded his glasses to the counter, and splashed some cold water on his face. Standing, he straightened his tie and inhaled, held it for a count of ten, and let the breath out slowly. 

_Whatever._ If his academic success depended on sucking up to and biting his tongue in front of a bunch of stuck-up Japanese men whose sole purpose was to pick apart every discrepancy of his powerpoint, then so be it. He’d show them how it was done. Tsukishima Kei knew how to give a presentation. 

At least, somewhere out in the audience, would be the person who made everything he suffered through worthwhile. 

Deeming himself professional and composed enough, Kei gathered his things and strode out the door in the direction of the auditorium. He was second in a lineup of seven presentations before the break for dinner. His PI forcing this on him aside, Kei took the fact that he was the youngest person there (by at least a decade) in stride, allowing it to boost his confidence and pride. Pushing up his glasses, the blonde man sneered across the heads of his peers as he towered over them backstage.

Tetsu always liked to boast that he had the tallest, smartest, most beautiful boyfriend in all of the medical and archaeology fields combined. It was a ridiculous claim, considering that not many people in either had significant others (all the doctors and research professors Kei knew had limited social lives and even smaller luck with love). But no matter how many times Kei rolled his eyes and told Tetsu he was over-exaggerating, it had somehow become a thought that alleviated his inner anxieties while he waited his turn before each presentation he gave. Even today, despite all his annoyance for being there, he could never quite shake the pre-presentation nerves. 

He knew he’d be fine. In between all the work Kei had this week, he managed to set aside enough time to practice and go over his powerpoint. It wasn’t a difficult topic; it was _his_ research baby, after all (his PI was barely more than an empty presence over his shoulder). Twenty minutes, questions, and then he could go home. Thirty minutes tops and he could make his way back to Tetsu’s sturdy, loving embrace. 

_Ugh, his boyfriend better be prepared for a whine fest when he gets home_. 

Just before it was his turn, one of his “colleagues,” the fifty-something-year-old asshole professor from his department, whose classes Kei dutifully avoided in order to never have to listen to the old man’s constant complaints about the younger generation again, stepped in front of him. Kei barely schooled his face from twisting into a frown, but allowed his eyes to roll behind the thick lenses of his glasses. 

Ah, Annoyance No.2 was already making itself seen. How timely.

Asshole Professor attempted to inquire about Kei’s presentation topic, but his intentions were clear from the beginning. Kei looked down rather disinterestedly at the man, who was short even for a Japanese person but next to Kei seemed tiny and insignificant. _Just like his opinions._ The guy had a high forehead and a permanent haughty scowl engraved into the wrinkles of his face and was, like usual, trying to put down the three and a half years of research Kei had put into archaeology. 

He never really understood why all these ossan’s put so much effort into dissing his research. Using modern molecular genetics techniques wasn’t a new and interesting idea anymore. Plus, he was helping identify and classify the fossil record in more detail with much higher accuracy, shouldn’t they be happy about that? His “peers” were all really leaning into the stubborn-refusal-to-change stage of their lives. What condescending pricks. 

The blonde glanced towards the stage, the first presentation was onto its allotted question time. With his most practiced, polite smile, Kei turned back to the older man in front of him.

“I’m sorry, I would love to stay and chat, but perhaps you should save your questions for the end of my presentation? It would be a waste to ask such things before I've even started.” He pushed past the professor towards the stage technician, making a big deal out of handing them his flash drive and asking if he could double-check that his laser pointer worked.

When it was his turn, Kei made his way out onto the stage in front of the projector screen, feathers freshly ruffled and piercing gaze unyielding under the hot stage lighting. As the lights dimmed and he started his powerpoint, he smirked to himself. All the shit he got for being too ambitious of a youngster, “intruding” on his superiors’ works and proving them wrong… He was about to give it all back. 

Kei was so into giving the best damn presentation of the afternoon that he forgot to scan the crowd for a familiar face like usual. 

The earlier encounter with Asshole Professor lit a blazing fire underneath him that burned through all his worries and fears, leaving behind only pettiness and confidence. Kei didn’t realize that the one person who usually showed up to his presentations wasn’t there until he'd successfully answered all the patronizing questions from his peers, proving that he did, indeed, know what he was talking about. He was holding his bow for the requisite ten seconds and walking off the stage when it dawned on him. 

Tetsu wasn’t there.

 _Well maybe_ , his mind quickly supplied as his eyebrows knit together and his lips tightened, _maybe he was in the back and slipped out as soon as possible to get back to studies._ Kei knew his boyfriend had a practical exam today, afterall.

It was fine, though, either way. Tetsu didn’t _need_ to be there. He didn’t need to come to any of Kei’s presentations. Things had drastically changed since the anxious need arose of having something familiar to ground him for his first few presentations. His boyfriend had been the best support then, years ago, when he had yet to figure out how to divert his attention from the presentation nerves to literally anything else more constructive than an anxiety attack. But now? He had this.

 _Whatever_ , he thought. _It makes no difference._

Kei grabbed his bag from where he’d stowed it away and headed for the exit, trying to shake the blooming negative thoughts from his mind. Even if Tetsu had forgotten completely about agreeing to come to the conference, Kei could get over it. It wasn’t like it was on purpose. Tetsu wouldn’t do that to him. 

It wasn’t a big deal. Annoyance No.3 could be gotten over. Easy as pie.

That’s what the blonde boy repeated to himself, like some sort of lifeline, as he shoved through the balmy, crowded Tokyo streets, not bothering to change out of his nice white shirt and tie. 

That’s what he told himself as he was squished against the train door on his ride back to his station by some sweaty salaryman who apparently didn’t know what deodorant was.

That’s what he told himself as he patiently counted to ten and tried to convince himself not to clothesline the person who accidentally stepped on his heel not once, but _twice,_ behind him.

_It doesn’t matter. It frustrates you, but you’ll get over it. You always do, Kei._

• • • 

Frantic fingers fumbled with the knot of his tie— _it was choking him_ —and after a small struggle, he finally tore it off. 

It turned out that today was not a day Kei could successfully force himself to get over his annoyances. 

The whole way home, while he desperately chanted his mantra in effort to keep his frustrations at bay, instead, they morphed into a tight ball of anxiety that settled in his stomach and threatened to rise up, Tetsu standing Kei up at its molten, rage-filled core. He considered stopping and staking out a random restroom until the bile pushing at the back of his throat settled down, but shook off thought and ground his teeth. 

He’d be fine. 

This whole thing was stupid anyway. He was just annoyed; the heat only made Kei slightly more pissy. It was just another bad day, but that didn’t mean he needed to freak out about it. Besides, acknowledging that he might lose control over his emotions always made things worse. So Kei deliberately chose not to. Dancing around his mental health had become a sort of twisted game somewhere halfway through dating Tetsu, and he couldn’t bring himself to miss a single step.

But Kei could feel it coming. It had been so long since he’d experienced anything remotely close to a rogue bout of uncontrollable anxiety, and that distance made it so much more terrifying. He knew what was coming, and he so desperately did not want things to reach that level, but the fear of an attack usually only triggered one. Kei learned that early, early on. 

And today he slipped up; he let a sliver of fear spark to life in his chest. It lit up his insides, reaching his stomach and catching fire, the things that frustrated him fueling the blaze into an explosion.

_This is so stupid. You’re so stupid._

—No! He wasn’t going to give up control. This was his life and he made the decisions. Kei decided that he was over this. It was pointless. What would panicking solve? 

What would he even panic about anyway? He was fine.

_Tetsu doesn’t love you—_

Nope. No. Not today. That was stupid. And untrue. They’d been together for eight years. There was no way in hell that Kuroo Tetsurou, the world’s biggest, sappiest romantic, didn’t love him.

Even if he couldn’t keep his demons at bay, Kei was sure that he would be safe at home if things escalated past the point of return. Tetsu usually didn’t come home from school after exams—opting to drink with his friends instead. So he set his eyes on the quickest route home and all but ran for safety.

• • • 

_He was so close_. His vision was blurred, but the door to the bathroom was right in front of him. 

Kei grappled with the buttons on his white shirt but gave up to force a slow _inhale... Hold.10...9, 8, 7...6–_

“Welcome back baby~” The words slurred together, and Kei’s overstimulated brain barely processed them before he felt arms wrap around his waist from behind.

The blonde man froze, hand extended, still reaching for the bathroom doorknob. 

Hot breath tickled his neck as a muscular chest pushed against his sweaty back and a kiss was pressed against a particularly long lock of hair that curled right behind his left ear. The scent of alcohol swept over him.

The breath he’d held onto whooshed out, and Kei felt his eyes flutter closed… 

And then they were flashing open and he was wrenching out of the embrace. 

_Out, he needs_ **_out_** _. He has to get out of here._

His heart exploded, flames licked under his skin, and Kei shoved forward, flung himself at the bathroom door, and yanked it open. Slamming the door behind him, he ripped at his shirt and gasped for breath, trying to reign in his heart, his _control_. The top few buttons scattered as Kei tried to free himself from the shirt’s pressed cotton restraints.

 _Out, get out of here_. _Don’t let him see. He’ll laugh. He’ll hate you._

He’d barely gotten the shirt over his shoulders when the door was opening behind him. Panic turned to dread, icy within his fevered body; _he forgot to lock it._

“Stop!” he heard himself choke out, eyes crazy behind thick frames, hair sweaty and disheveled, “Tetsu, stop! Don’t— I—” 

But Tetsu was already there, and the door, opened, as Kei’s hands were too wrapped up in his shirt to try and push it closed. He knew there was terror in his eyes when they met Tetsu’s. The raven-haired man’s look of confusion and hurt jerked into a look of concern immediately. 

“Kei baby, what’s—” he started, reaching for his boyfriend.

A slap rang out into the air.

Tetsu held his hand, now stinging and quickly reddening. He looked on in disbelief as Kei took a shaky breath and leveled his golden eyes at him.

“Don’t touch me.”

The raven-haired man’s jaw dropped. His hands fell to his sides and a bewildered, wounded look settled onto his face. Tetsu opened his mouth to say something when Kei continued.

“Get out, _please_ ,” he muttered to the floor in front of him, although the ‘please’ was more threatening than pleading. “I don’t want to deal with you right now. Just— I— give me an hour of peace— _for gods sake_ —I just got back from work. An hour, no, thirty minutes would do it—”

“E-ex _cuse_ me?” spluttered Tetsu, indignant, pressing forward and blinking through his drunken haze. “‘Deal with me’? Are you fucking kidding, Kei? I just wanted to give you some affection after you got back from school and that’s ‘dealing with me’? I’m not a fucking child, Kei! I’m your goddamn boyfriend!” He scrunched his eyebrows together and added harsh and cold, “I’m sorry for wanting to touch and love you; I'll not do that again.”

Kei narrowed his eyes into a glare. His heart was still racing in panic, his mind still on the _shit I'm going to die, he's going to find out_ train, but now he had a focus. And, as anger boiled up within, he felt something inside of him snap.

“Yeah, I said ‘deal with you,’” the blonde spit, unable to control his anger. “You’re a lot sometimes, you know? Except, I know you _don’t know_ because if there’s one thing you’re completely oblivious to, it’s the chaos you cause around you. Especially like right now, when I came home from a big presentation—one that apparently was deemed unimportant to you—and find you completely drunk off your ass? No, I don’t want to deal with that. I’m hot. I’m tired. I’m so annoyed. Today fucking sucked. I just want to be by myself for a fucking second. Is that too much to ask for?!

“Most of the time, yeah, I want your love and affection and attention,” Kei continued, the words racing one another out of his mouth, out of control, out of his grasp, unhinged and cruel. “But others, I have work and school and shit to do, and you just distract me from it. And I need that sometimes, but not today! Not today, when you— Look, I used to be grateful to have you as a distraction from all the bullshit I have to deal with at work, all the pricks I have to suck up to in school, but it’s so- so- _annoying_ right now. And you couldn’t even- you _promised_ -”

Kei ran a shaky hand through his hair, tugging at the messy curls in anxious frustration. The words he wanted to say wouldn’t come out, and that was making him more angry, more agitated, “I love you, Tetsu, I _do_. Why else would I put so much work in, _so much effort_ , to make us work? I want to be with you forever, but right now I just want some fucking space, okay?”

As Kei paused to suck in a much-needed breath and try to reign in his anger, he frowned at the man in front of him. Tetsu was frozen, his face contorting in a whirlwind of emotions, mouth opening and closing like he wanted to retaliate but his brain couldn’t come up with the words. Kei watched as the veins in the man’s neck bulged and all the muscles from his shoulders down to his hands tensed as he clenched his fists. Any more tension and he’d start shaking.

Kei could feel the words and retorts Tetsu wanted to say, but nothing came out. The raven just stood there fuming for a long time before turning and slamming the bathroom door behind him. Kei soon heard the front door slam too, and it took a couple minutes for things to settle in. 

The blonde slumped to the floor, still in his dress slacks and socks, shirt still bunched up around his arms, and curled up against the bath, head on his knees. He tangled his fingers into his hair and _yanked_ , letting out a noise of frustration, sharp and strangled. 

Rage still simmered within him, but it was now directed at himself. He’d gone too far, he knew that, but _fuck_. Why didn’t Tetsu get it? There were some things that couldn’t be solved with a hug; sometimes you just had to let your emotions run their course. And _for fuck’s sake_ , the presentations were the one thing—the _one thing_ —that Tetsu made time for. Kei hadn’t asked for much (more would have been appreciated, but they were both busy men) but this was a relationship. Compromises had to be made. Kei gave up a lot of the things he wanted simply because they didn’t have the time to make them work, and that was fine. He tried not to be too needy. He really did. Tetsu had so much on his plate that forgetting one presentation out of many shouldn’t be that big of a deal. 

But, one thing? One thing that had been on their shared calendar, circled in red, for a week? And Kei _knew_ Tetsu checked that calendar because it had all their important shit on it—practicals, surgeries, work events, interviews. Plus, when he’d asked about it, the other man had promised to go, beyond all odds, as always. And instead, Kei came home to him shitfaced, completely oblivious to the shit Kei had slogged through today. It wasn’t fair. 

Kei stayed like that, there, on the bathroom floor, for a long time. 

He only picked himself up after it darkened and the sun no longer lit the room through the small window above the tub. Finally, his clothes were shucked off and thrown by the door, glasses carefully folded and placed onto the vanity, and the shower tap yanked all the way to cold. Water ran over him as he crouched, head bowed, jaw clenched, on the floor, because Kei didn’t trust his legs to stand. The aftermath of an anxiety attack-turned argument left him completely spent.

Kei tried to decipher whether he was more angry at his boyfriend or himself, but after a long moment of blankness amid the turmoil of his emotions, he gave up.

He didn’t even bother washing, simply opting to let the cold water numb him until he was shivering and started to lose feeling in his fingers and toes. Then, he shut off the tap, floated through toweling off, and somehow ended up face down on his bed, clad in an old shirt and shorts.

Half of his brain stayed on alert, hoping that maybe Tetsu would come home and they could _talk_ , but the other half switched off. Kei was left in a half-awake state that vaguely reminded him of dissociation until the world took pity on him and everything faded into darkness. 

• • • 

Tetsu didn’t come home that night. He didn’t come home the day after, either.

Kei huffed and gave up; if his boyfriend wanted to pout like a child, he could. If he wanted to run away from his problems, he could. It didn’t have anything to do with him. 

The rest of the week fell back into its normal pace. 

Kei downed cups of coffee as he taught his Intro to Archeology lab class and worked on analyzing his PCR data. He met with Tadashi for lunch, argued over stupid shit with Kageyama and Hinata on their ancient-yet-somehow-still-alive-and-thriving group chat, and laughed at the ridiculous situations Yachi got herself into at her new job. He promised Akaashi that he’d come help decorate his new space once the renovations were done and exchanged exasperated looks with Sakura when their PI held an emergency meeting to call out the mistakes of one of their undergrads. 

Things were as per usual. Except for a few texts, a few smiles, a few kisses. Kei didn’t like being home alone in their apartment, so he spent most of his time in his lab or at the library or over at Tadashi’s. The tension never left him either, following him around like a vice ready to snap its jaws around him. 

Kei didn’t really know what to do. He considered texting Tetsu. But what would he say? “Sorry, I was panicking and I didn’t want you to see and then everything came spilling out”? So, no, no texting. 

He was still annoyed and the fact that Tetsu had yet to come home irked him more than he wanted to admit. It was petty and childish, and those were traits he knew his boyfriend had but wished he didn’t. Kei knew he needed to just get over it and apologize, but somehow he couldn’t force himself to do so. That in itself was frustrating enough. 

As he was complaining about the whole situation to Tadashi at his place that Saturday, he was interrupted by the shrill sound of his ringtone.

“Ugghh…” he groaned from where his forehead rested on Tadashi’s table, not even making to pick it up. “You answer it, Tadashi, tell Akiteru to leave me alone, I don’t wanna talk to him right now.”

Tadashi reached over to grab his phone and frowned at the screen, “Um, Tsukki, it’s… Bokuto-san?”

The blonde lifted his head, staring dumbly up at his best friend. “What?” 

“It’s Bokuto-san? Do you want me to answer it?”

“Bokuto?”

“Yeah.”

“What? Why?” 

“Dunno. Ah! It ended.” Tadashi tilted his head and met Kei’s equally confused look.

“Uh…” but he was cut off by the sound of his phone ringing again in Tadashi’s hand. Kei cocked an eyebrow.

“It’s… Bokuto-san again—”

“Give it here.” 

Kei straightened and grabbed for his phone. Sure enough, Bokuto-san’s ridiculous profile picture lit up his display. Well. This was unexpected.

“...Hello?”

“Hey hey heyyy Tsukki~ Where are you right now?” came Bokuto-san’s rambunctious voice. 

The blonde frowned into the phone, “I’m at my friend’s house? Why?”

“Ohhh Freckles? Hi Freckles!!” Kei had to lean away from the screech. Tadashi mouthed a _What’s going on?_ at him, but like hell he knew. Bokuto-san was an indecipherable mystery. He didn’t even know why they were friends. 

“Hey hey, Tsukki, so I’m gonna send you an address and you need to come okay? Like, absolutely. Freckles can come too. But no getting out of this one! I already sent someone over there to meet you! I’ll see you soon!!” and then the call was cut.

Kei stared at his phone, screen now dark. He looked from it, to Tadashi, to the snacks littering the table, and back to his phone. Before he could say a word, there was a knock from the front door. Tadashi’s eyes widened in shock and hurried to get it.

The green-haired boy opened his apartment door to find a very sullen, very I’m-so-done-with-everything-I-just-want-to-go-back-to-bed-looking Kenma.

“K-Kenma-san?! How— What—” Tadashi spluttered.

“Um. I’m here to pick you up.” The long haired man looked to the side. “Please don’t put up a fight. I’m not that high of a level yet. This was an emergency mission. Kuro’s out of control.”

Kei looked up, “What?”

“Please let’s just go?” Kenma fiddled with the zipper on his trainer, looking more uncomfortable as the minutes went by.

Completely taken aback, Kei stood up, grabbed his bag, and stuffed his feet into his shoes, exchanging looks with Tadashi that went a little like:

_What the fuck?_

_I don’t know. How’d they even find out where I lived?_

_...Kenma?_

_Shit you’re right. But still. This doesn’t seem good._

_No. It doesn’t. And I don’t want to go._

_But what if he’s in trouble?_

_Then I would’ve gotten a call from the cops, not Bokuto._

_So are we going to g—?_

_Yeah. Fuck it. I don’t care anymore._

The sooner this was over, the better. Plus, maybe Kei would get to finally have that talk with his dumbfuck boyfriend. 

The two headed out, following Kenma to god knows where. 

• • • 

By the time they arrived outside of a karaoke room, Kei was already regretting his decision to come. The loud, indiscernible ruckus coming from inside the room served as proof that he had made a mistake. 

Kenma hadn’t elaborated on the way over either. So the blonde was left to stew in irritation the whole way, and now that they’d come to this… Someone was going to have to hold him back from ripping out Tetsu’s hair for ruining a perfectly fine weekend and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be Tadashi.

Kenma pulled out his phone, typed a few words out, and looked up at the two friends, “I’m going home. Good luck.” And he turned on his heel and shuffled away, leaving Tadashi and Kei in front of the room.

While he was fretting over how to apologize and get over their fight, Tetsu was what? Partying with his friends? His golden eyes hardened into a glare. Tadashi looked at his friend with an apologetic expression, grabbing Kei’s hand before he reached the door. 

“Kei, give him the benefit of the doubt. Kuroo-san obviously took it hard if he hasn’t been back all week,” murmured his best friend placatingly.

Kei glared at him, daring Tadashi to back down, but his friend met his golden eyes straight on. When hazel eyes sat stubborn and unyielding on their freckled throne, Kei huffed out a breath and wrenched the door open. 

It was rather impressive how loud a group of adult men could get. Especially since, judging by the obscene amount of alcohol bottles littering the table in the center of the room, you’d think they’d be passed out on one another. But, of course, Kei wouldn’t get that lucky. 

Tetsu’s friends were as chaotic and as gifted as he was. _Of course_. 

There was his boyfriend’s high school friend and now pro-volleyball player for Russia, Yaku Morisuke, currently engaged in a sing-off against chaotic-evil Tendou Satori, who somehow landed himself a spot in this friend group when he showed up to Todai’s Med School after practically acing everything. Makimaki and Mattsun were swaying and singing along to whatever song was being sung; Mattsun was also a med student at UTokyo and Hanamaki a freelancer, but Kei had never seen the two apart. That left Bokuto, Tetsurou’s best friend, who was guffawing and slapping the back of the couch as Tetsu downed another two shots in quick succession. 

Kei watched in disgust from the doorway. He and Tadashi shuffled in, opting to shut the door as quickly as possible so no one would complain about the noise. His boyfriend was locked in a drinking contest with his long-time rival, Daishou Suguru, and they looked way too far in for the top-of-the-class surgeons they aimed to be. And if Kei called Tetsu an alcoholic, Daishou was even worse. The snake was definitely winning the contest, but the raven would never allow such defeat, so he pressed on. Even though things had definitely gotten out of hand. 

Finally, as the two younger men stood awkwardly on the edge of the fray, Yaku and Tendou’s song ended. The roar of the room died down a bit and brought to everyone’s attention their new companions. Yaku caught one look at Kei’s face and immediately narrowed in on Tetsurou, snatching the shot he was attempting to throw back from his hands. Bokuto looked up and grinned. 

“Hey! You made it! Wow, Kenma works fast!”

The blonde boy scowled, trying to remind himself not to take out his anger on the owl-headed man, “What the fuck is going on here.” It wasn’t a question.

Bokuto stood up and gently nudged his way past a very inebriated Kuroo. “Wanna get some air?”

Apparently, as Bokuto told it, Tetsu had shown up on his and Akaashi’s doorstep four days ago, drunk off his ass and bawling. Kei was already rolling his eyes, putting even more effort into tamping down on his annoyance. 

They let him stay, Akaashi cutting him off from alcohol with a very stern look, and tried to get the details out of him the next day. But the raven had woken, cleaned up, and went to school, hungover and looking like shit. That night, Bokuto went to pick his best friend up from Todai after a call from one of his friends (Bokuto was friends with fucking everyone) that the orthopedic resident had holed himself up in a study room and hadn’t come out for hours. 

Bokuto found Tetsu just as he expected: lazer-focused on comitting to memory whatever the fuck he was studying—even though he’d just had an exam on Tuesday! Bokuto knew something was wrong and refused to let Tetsu study more until he’d spit it out.

So Bokuto and Akaashi found out about their argument. _No surprise there_ , Kei thought.

After Tetsu was done with his sob story, Bokuto convinced him to come home with him. There, he and (mostly) Akaashi, who was good friends with Kei and knew a lot of the things that annoyed him, had a heart-to-heart, _we had an_ intervention _Tsukki!_ , with the raven. He didn’t enjoy that, and had left, angry. 

Bokuto’s connections told him that Kuroo stayed the next couple nights at internet cafes and showered at his hospital. The man had even sweet-talked his way into getting after-hours permission at the university rec center to set up a volleyball net and spike balls into the floor of the smallest court. No matter Bokuto’s or Akaashi’s insistence for Tetsurou to come to terms with his problems, the man would just refuse to answer their calls or texts. 

That forced Bokuto to come up with the Greatest Plan of All Time: Invite all Kuroo’s friends to hang out and get Kuroo black-out drunk so that Kei could come pick him up. 

And so far, things had gone just as planned! The owl was practically hooting with pride at how well he’d done. Tetsurou hadn’t expected a thing!

All was well and good, Kei supposed, except that now he was even more pissed at Tetsurou. Tadashi had to grab his arm to keep him from storming back into the karaoke room and dumping his shit boyfriend right then and there. It was all so stupid. It was all so unfair. 

Why the fuck did he always have to clean up Tetsu’s messes?

The blonde knew Bokuto meant well, for both his best friend and his best friend’s boyfriend, and Kei was grateful for him. Really, he was. So Kei would not explode just yet. 

The bespectacled boy sighed and rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. Handing Tadashi his phone with a _Call a taxi for me please while I get his drunk ass downstairs_ , Kei opened the door to the room again. Yaku had successfully stopped the drinking contest, but his boyfriend was currently shouting at Daishou to _wipe that fucking smirk of your stupid fucking face, you cheater!_

Kei paid no mind to the shouting match, however, snatching one of Tetsu’s arms and yanking the unsuspecting man to his feet. The raven-haired man stumbled, almost falling on his face, but Kei had an unfortunately large amount of experience in this sort of situation and was a pro at holding up his boyfriend, despite the difference in muscle. With a knowing, apologetic look from Yaku, Kei turned, hiking his boyfriend over his shoulder, and dragged Tetsurou out of the karaoke room, muttering a goodbye and a thanks to Bokuto.

Once outside, the muggy summer air seemed to sizzle around Kei and his barely contained rage. Tadashi had hailed a taxi and laughed softly when the blonde told him, exasperatedly, after shoving Tetsurou into the car, that he was _a fucking angel_ and _the only good person in this entire trash world_.

“Get home safe,” the freckled man smiled. Then after a thought, he added, “Go easy on him, Kei. You two need a good long talk.”

Oh, if only he knew. 

But Kei refrained from mouthing off, only nodded and ducked into the taxi. 

By the time they got home, Tetsurou had fallen asleep in his seat, blissfully unaware of the wrath and fury awaiting him. Kei dragged his boyfriend out of the taxi and up the steps to their apartment. 

He wasn’t as angry anymore, his rage having dulled into annoyed exhaustion. The blonde ushered the raven in and draped him as best as he could onto their bed. He, too, fell down next to his boyfriend, completely spent from carrying 79 kilograms of muscle and stupid hair up three flights of steps. 

Kei sighed, discarding his glasses to the bedside table. He didn’t know what to do.

They’d been together for forever, it felt like, and he’d never once considered breaking up. But right now, he was overcome with so many emotions, most of which were frustrations aimed at any and everything, and he didn’t know what to do about them. They had lots of very important things to talk about, but Kei also felt like they needed a break. To figure out their priorities; to acknowledge their own issues. 

_Tomorrow_. He decided. _Tomorrow, we’ll talk_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> words you might not know:  
> ossan - old man  
> PCR - polymerase chain reaction - a genetics lab technique that allows you to replicate a desired strand of DNA
> 
> (also this isn't an accurate representation of science conferences/fancy presentation... i exaggerated because. eh. tsukki has a flair for the dramatics so i sorta...bent the fiction a bit lol)
> 
> ah a brief introduction to kuroo's friends! i'm not sorry... i've just made them as chaotic as i probably could... also i'm not sure how much i'll get to go into depth on all kuroo's friendships, but it's def something i wanna explore because there's a lot in between the lines here. plus one of the things i wanted to include in this fic is subtle/not-so-subtle nods to some of my other favorite ships...
> 
> anyway, i'm formatting chapter five right now (again ::cries::) so i'll post that as soon as i'm done!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay okay okay here it is. i'm still so freakin embarrassed that i did that.... aghhh 
> 
> anyway please enjoy some angst! 
> 
> (panic/anxiety attack will be bracketed by lines)

Kei awoke to the sudden movement of someone sitting up in bed with a groan and then bee-lining to the bathroom. The blonde sucked in a breath, rubbed his eyes, and exhaled. 

He lay there for a bit, trying not to pay too close of attention to the obvious distress in the room down the hall. Then he pushed himself up, slipped on his glasses, and went about his morning. Shucking off the clothes he hadn’t bothered changing out of last night, Kei pulled on a pair of black shorts and a t-shirt and tried to mentally prepare himself. Not that it mattered. He’d already made up his mind. 

Making his way to the small kitchen, Kei filled a tall glass with water and grabbed two aspirin from the cupboard above the sink with a slight sigh. 

Kei nudged open the bathroom door and leaned against the doorframe while his boyfriend finished emptying the contents of his stomach from the night before. Kei was quiet, waiting with a calm patience that was rather unlike himself. A product of some rational thinking after he got home last night, he supposed. 

Tetsurou slowly pushed himself to his feet, grimacing, and leaned over the sink to brush his teeth. 

This had become sort of routine: Tetsu got drunk, threw up the next morning, and brushed his teeth while Kei fetched him aspirin and water. What came next this time, though, broke them out of that cycle of rinse and repeat. 

Kei handed his boyfriend the glass and the pills, waiting for Tetsu to completely down the liquid so he wouldn’t choke. Then, he opened his mouth. 

“Let’s break up.”

Tetsurou spluttered and choked anyway. 

“W-what?”

His hazel eyes bugged out, a very unflattering look, when paired with the dark circles and worse-than-usual bedhead. The raven winced, probably the hangover, and turned to face Kei, his eyes twisted with concern. 

“Kei, baby, what’s- why would you say that?”

The blonde sighed, he already hated this. “I told you last time: I’m tired of dealing with this,” he gestured broadly. “We’ve had the alcohol discussion before—this isn’t healthy, Tetsu. And I think we both could use some space to figure out our priorities.”

The messy-haired man just stared, looking a little offended but as if he was trying to hold that down so that they could have a functional conversation. Kei appreciated that. 

“You’re working through residency and since the schedule is so up and down, we barely even see each other and when we do, it’s just arguing or sleeping. I won’t hold you back anymore. I also need to kick things into gear and finish my thesis, anyway, and that’s another huge time sink and if we’re just going to keep fighting and getting frustrated at each other, I’d rather just end it now while we’re on good terms.”

_Well now, that was well and good, but it wasn’t exactly what he wanted to say—_

“So let’s break up. I’ll look into moving and stay out of your way until I find a new place—”

“No.”

Now, it was Kei’s turn to say, “What?” His brows furrowed and irritation started creeping in. He was being perfectly reasonable! This was a rational conclusion to come to! He didn’t want to fight anymore; he didn’t want to come to hate the man he’d just spent eight years of his life loving.

“I said, no, I don’t want to break up.” Tetsurou crossed his arms and frowned angrily, looking very much like a pouting child, “and I’m a little pissed you wanted to just end things so easily. We haven’t even tried working things out, we haven’t talked about—”

“Talked about what, Tetsurou?” Kei interrupted, anger rising. “You want to talk now, after almost eight years of the same shit? Now, when something you always thought you’d have is threatening to walk away? You don’t just get to decide to put effort in when it’s convenient for you! But oh, I suppose that’s hard for you to comprehend when luck has been on your side your whole damn life. Why can’t you just respect my decision?” 

“This isn’t coming out of nowhere!” He flung his arms out wide, “I’ve been ignoring all the little things you do, putting up with everything, and cleaning up your messes for eight fucking years. And I’m tired! I’m tired of it! We’re not lovesick teenagers any more. We’re adults and we need to act like it—and that goes for both our relationship and our futures! Don't just stand there and think that this is all sunshine and rainbows because it’s _not_. This relationship is a dead end, and I was stupid to hold onto it for so long. So no. I don’t want to talk about it. You probably wouldn’t even understand half of the shit anyway because problems don’t exist for you; setbacks don’t _exist_ for Kuroo Tetsurou. And that’s fine. That’s perfectly fucking fine. I’ll see myself out.

Kei was flushed by the end of it, panting slightly. Things just spilled out, despite whether he actually wanted to say them or if he meant them at all.

He whirled around, not wanting to look the other in the eye, as if doing so would expose all the insecurities and irrational fears that, along with the rational words he clung to like a lifeline, spilled out into the sticky June air. But Kei had faith that Tetsurou would, like usual, miss those obvious hints as well. 

He’d made it halfway down the hall when his arm was yanked back.

“Kei! You think- _you think I’ll just let you leave?_ That I’m just going to accept that shitty excuse for an answer and let you walk away?!” There was anger, possessive anger, in Tetsurou’s voice. 

The blonde stiffened, honeycomb eyes hardening until they were sharp shards of butterscotch as he turned his head and glared at the other man, “No, but I’m not yours, Tetsu. Not anymore.”

Kei shook the hand off and returned to the bedroom to grab his bag. He’d packed it lightly this morning, just before he got up. So now, as he slung it over a shoulder, he steeled himself and didn’t look back. 

• • •

Kei called Akiteru on his way to the station. His brother left for the states on a yearlong project for work at the beginning of last month and still had his apartment back in Tokyo since his company was paying for his room and board overseas. Fortunately, that meant Kei could have a place very soon, so that things wouldn’t be drawn out any longer. 

Akiteru agreed easily but demanded that, instead of paying rent, Kei would have to tell him honestly why he was moving out of his place. The blonde frowned, saying he’d rather pay rent, that it was nothing, but Akiteru insisted. After what seemed like hours of nagging (but was probably just minutes), Kei caved with an over-exaggerated sigh. 

Having a big brother was great except for the times when he acted like a big brother. 

So, with the most melodramatic reluctance that he could muster, Kei told his brother about the breakup, about last night, about the fight earlier this week, and Akiteru listened. 

He listened and then scolded Kei. 

Akiteru scolded him for not communicating everything with his boyfriend ( _ex_ -boyfriend, he mentally corrected), scolded him for never bringing up his mental health, and scolded him for realizing he was falling back into the same unhealthy coping he’d used in high school but doing nothing about it until now. And then Akiteru told Kei to call his old therapist in Miyagi to schedule an online appointment, a request to which the younger man rolled his eyes but refrained from complaining too much. He could, admittedly, use a refresher. (Although, realistically, it would just involve more scolding, and Kei was twenty-four, not a child anymore, he didn’t need to be scolded.)

By the end of it, Kei had reached his brother's apartment, found the spare key, and let himself in. 

“Aki-nii I’m hanging up—”

“Kei, one more thing?”

The blonde halted inside the entrance with a small frown, just about to toe his shoes off, “...What?” 

Akiteru hesitated for a second before he said, “You should also have a real conversation with Kuroo-san. I know you explained yourself pretty well just now, but you never took his side into account. If you’re just treating this like a break for a bit, that’s fine—you two sound like you both need the space—but I don’t think you should end things like thi—”

“I’ll text you later— _okaythanksbye_.” Kei cut his brother off and ended the call. 

Kei dropped his arm from his ear, loosely grasping his phone, and slid down to the floor. He sat there, back to the door, bag slumped to the ground, one strap still hanging onto his shoulder. 

For a moment, Kei tried to just _be_. To not think about all the shit that happened in the last twenty four hours. To just exist right here, cold metal behind his back, linoleum floor beneath him. His breath threatened to turn uneasy, his heart attempted to flutter away, but this time he did what he’d always done: Focus. Breathe in for a count of 4. Hold for two. Let it out slowly to a count of 6. Once that became easy, count the inhale, hold, exhale. Do that until he could come back to himself. Until he could say for sure, he was okay, he was calm, he was safe. 

An hour and some odd change later, Kei opened—he’s not sure when they fell closed—his eyes and took a big breath, mind clear. 

He did need some time to figure himself out, to get back on the right track. School and work were going fine, if he was being honest, but Akiteru was right: he was falling back into old ways, his careful control slowly slipping out of his long reach. There was immense truth to the saying old habits die hard, and Kei was embarrassed to think he’d let himself fall so far. 

For now, he’d focus on himself. 

Tomorrow, he’d get up and go to school. Then, he would stop by the apartment for more things. And Tuesday, when he knew Tetsurou would be in a surgery, he would call movers and pack up his stuff. By Wednesday, there would be no traces left of him in that apartment. And that was fine. 

Kei threw himself into his research, his classes, his museum job. He kept his promise to Akiteru and called his old therapist, had an appointment over the phone and then a couple webcam ones. When he’d talked things out, and by proxy organized his thoughts better, and felt more confident about using the tools he’d known so well before, he thanked his therapist with a real smile. He promised he’d email monthly updates and call in case of emergencies. His therapist refilled his emergency anxiety meds, but by now, Kei had gotten used to trying to sort through his head on his own. They would only be used for worst-case scenarios.

So things fell back into their normal routines; Kei finally felt more in control. 

Things returned to normal, but as days went by, Kei found himself dutifully ignoring his brother's last request. He’d thought about it, really, but the more he did, the more annoyed he got.

Relationships weren’t a one way street. He’d done enough babysitting. If Kei could reach out to talk about things, his ex very well could too. If Tetsurou really cared, he’d do something about it. It’s the least he could do for Kei, for them. If Tetsurou really wanted them together, he was going to have to show some initiative. Until then, well, Kei was fine on his own.

In fact, he rather enjoyed the freedom. 

He’d never not been with Tetsurou, or at least that’s how it seemed. So this was new; he went places by himself, enjoyed his own time, hung out with his friends and colleagues whenever he wanted since there was no one waiting at home. It was freeing. 

But then things...changed. Kei spent most of his time at work, in the lab, with students. He would go home sometimes, but soon, the sight of all his unpacked boxes would bore into him. They unnerved him for a reason he couldn't quite define.

He tried pushing them all into one corner of Akiteru’s apartment and grabbing pamphlets of apartments in the area. That didn’t work, of course; his stuff still loomed over him like some wretched shadow of a life once had. Kei found he could barely stomach flipping through the apartments—he kept looking at places that he couldn’t afford on his own like some twisted habit. So he stepped up his game: Kei asked Tadashi for apartment recommendations and threw the quilt Akiteru kept from their grandmother after her passing over the pile of boxes in the corner. That helped a bit. Then he belatedly realized he needed clothes from underneath it. 

In the end, Kei dragged out the boxes one night, pissed to all hell at the unnamed tension that had been building in him all week, dug out the least amount of things he needed to exist, and shoved the rest back under the quilt. 

The small room was completely messy now, but something about the mess put him at ease, a little.

As June came to a stifling end, Kei decided that he’d only go home to sleep. Some edge pushed into him whenever he sat around Akiteru’s apartment, and the easiest way to get around that was to avoid it completely. He still couldn’t get himself to look for a new place, but excused it on the premise of all the work he had to put in if he wanted to finish his thesis by the end of the semester. He was free now, and he should enjoy that, damn it. Some pile of boxes lingering in an apartment that wasn’t _home_ wasn’t going to take the small joys of his life away. That would be ridiculous. 

July began and Kei worked on his thesis. His phone would ding sometimes at random and he’d snatch it up expectantly, only to realize it was his dumb group chat and Hinata had sent some meme or Kageyama shared a picture of his drink from a new bubble tea place in Osaka he’d visited. 

After a couple more incidents like this, Kei gave up. 

He silenced all his notifications because they annoyed him. They pressed at him for answers he didn’t have.

He ridiculed himself for waiting for Tetsu to say something. Why wait for something that wasn’t coming? Why hope for something impossible? 

He got angry. Kei got angry at everything—from small mistakes in his lab to people out on the streets. But at the same time, he was careful to not take out his unprecedented rage on those around him. The situation with his ex left a lasting mark, even if he refused to acknowledge it. So Kei took his anger, held it within him, and withdrew. 

He stopped waiting for a text that was never coming. Blocked the number even, wanting the contact out of his life. He ignored every invitation to meet up from friends who were also _their_ friends or would come up with lazy excuses to get out of meeting. He refused to answer the questions from any of his friends, even Tadashi, until they gave up. He worked and worked and went home to sleep. Rinse and repeat. 

Because by this point, a month and a half after he’d left, the answer was screamingly obvious: He didn’t matter. Tetsurou didn’t care. 

It pissed him off. Infuriated him to no end. He’d spent so much of his time, so much of his life, so much fucking effort, on _them_ and _us_ and _we_. It was eight years of his life. Eight years he would never get back; eight years for _nothing_. 

Eight years for Tetsurou to not even say a goddamn word. 

So fuck him. Fuck giving themselves a chance to talk. It wasn’t fucking worth anymore effort. His ex didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve _him_. 

And Kei was fine with that. 

Really. He was. 

(He wasn’t.) 

• • •

Kei was in the middle of explaining—for like, the _fifth_ _time_ —the basis of his class’s second paper when he felt his phone buzz a couple times in his pocket. He paused, almost minutely, before sweeping carefully blank golden eyes over the room and reminding his students that they needed to cite their info, needed to cite it well, and if they had any problems finding citations, to email him or come to his office hours. He’d hate to fail them on the basis of plagiarism simply because they forgot their reference page. 

With that, his time was up, and he dismissed the lab with a reminder that their paper was, “Due in two weeks; no exceptions. Please, for the love of god, try to turn it in on time. I remind you: I not only have to _read_ 26 papers, but also _grade_ 26 papers. Go easy on me and, more importantly, go easy on your peers. Too many late papers _will_ put me in a shit mood, and I will be more than happy to take it out on the rest of the class.”

His students laughed, used to his deadpan sarcasm and empty threats by now, calling out a chorus of _yes_ and _have a good weekend Tsukishima-san_. He rolled his eyes and watched them leave, answered a few stray questions from the students left behind, and then gathered his things and was on his way. 

Kei shut the classroom door behind him and pulled his phone from his pocket as he headed down the hallway to the stairwell. The blonde frowned, his usual quick pace slowing to a halt, when he saw the notifications. 

Five messages… from Akaashi. 

Kei hadn’t talked to Akaashi—had been avoiding Akaashi—for _months_. It was something he really regretted; he missed talking and hanging out with his friend. But, spending time with someone in so close proximity to his ex… Well, he didn’t want to make anyone choose sides. 

Since he had been the one to step back, and because these messages were _from_ his friend, after more than four months, he was even more terrified to open them. 

Especially with what happened this last weekend. 

At that thought, his frown deepened and he felt irritation creep up behind him.

He was not in the mood for a lecture.

With a huff, Kei slipped his phone back into his pocket and resumed his morning. 

He had a meeting in an hour with his thesis committee (which was going to suck) since he’d finished the bulk of his PhD research and was halfway through writing his thesis and creating his presentation. Then, he promised Sakura lunch. Afternoon was reserved for looking at the results of his latest sequencing run and to start sifting through that mountain of data. 

Kei decided he was too busy to check his phone today. 

• • •

Kei excused himself from his committee meeting barely holding back the ice from his voice. He made sure to quietly and carefully close the door to the room before storming off down the hallway. It was so stupid. This was all so fucking stupid. 

His committee didn’t think he’d be able to retrieve the results he needed to prove his thesis and wanted him to reconsider both his research topic and his organism of choice. 

He had less than six months left! How could Kei simply switch to a different organism?! He’d compromised that if he needed to take another 6 months to a year to get the requisite data, he would wait to defend, but only if necessary. Because he was so _close_ to his results. He could feel it. 

Besides, so what if there was more information elsewhere? That was why Kei chose what he did, that was why he’d gotten the research grant, and that was why he was so determined to finish this project. It was untouched territory; an undiscovered topic. 

His organism had been left alone for so long, despite the explosion in genetics and biotechnology within the last decade. It was history in the making, and Kei wanted his name on it! He wanted to connect the dots, publish his results, and add his name to fossil history by deciphering some ancient DNA and re-theorizing the evolutionary trail it left behind. But here was his committee, practically mocking his whole life dream to his fucking face! 

Kei knew they were being reasonable (well, as reasonable as old sticklers could be); he’d yet to receive any outstanding data, but it was only a matter of time. Ancient DNA was hard to get a hold of and even harder to sequence correctly—that’s why he was taking so long. How dare they insult his patience and attentiveness! 

The blonde was practically vibrating with anger when he stopped by his lab to pick up Sakura for lunch. 

The redhead took one look at her friend’s usually apathetic mask slipping and grabbed his hand, pulling him after her.

“Oh, are we going to treat ourselves today!” She decided, her tone rather dangerous. If Kei had been on the receiving end of such a declaration, he’d probably take a step back. Or ten. “How dare they try and make a fool of Tokyo’s best archaeologist. Well. Not on my watch!”

Try as she might—the desserts at their favorite cafe were well made and wonderful—lunch did little to lift his mood. When they returned and Kei sat down to check his email for his data, she stopped him, grabbing him by his shoulders and spinning him in his chair to face her. Although he was heads taller than her and she barely had a couple of centimeters on him while he was sitting down, she managed to loom over him like this. 

“Tsukishima Kei!” she started dramatically, hands tight on his shoulders, green eyes sparkling, polished jade. 

He nodded jerkily, biting his lip and trying to force his anger down. His knees were already bouncing, so he tried to stop those too. 

“I, Sakura Chiyo, hereby declare that you are the most wonderful man the world has to offer. Despite your constant sass and Ice Queen persona, you are incredible, talented, and too kind-hearted for your own good!”

Kei rolled his eyes at that last bit.

“I command you: Go forth! Seek challenge in your thesis committee! Your arsenal is already well prepared, and you have everything you need to triumph. I promise: You will kick their shitty-nepotistic-no-brained asses with your wit alone! You don’t even need evidence!”

He felt his lips prick up a little at her folly—she was gesturing grandly now.

“But I know. You’ll go and find the very _best_ facts and data to prove them wrong. You’ll give the best presentation, write the best thesis they’ve ever read. They will be wrought speechless. Unable to question a thing! You will have just provided them with the answers to the universe; what left have they to ask?”

She bent to his eye level, green eyes meeting golden ones, and finished, “And then this humble servant of yours will treat you to the best cake in all of Tokyo. Because if there’s one thing we’ve learned since the start of our grueling Education Journey, it’s: What’s another 10k on my loans?”

The blonde couldn’t hold back his snort. Said snort then turned into the most unbridled laughter he’d experienced in months. Soon, the two had dissolved into giggles muffled by sweater sleeves in an lame attempt not to draw their PI’s attention.

“You’re absolutely ridiculous,” he told her breathily, after they’d come back to themselves. 

“Oh, it’s my best trait, I know.”

“...Thanks, Sakura-san.” Kei pushed his glasses up on his nose and smiled a small smile at her. 

She winked, “Just remember me when you’re famous, Ice Queen. I’ll write the best foreword for your book on How You Single-Handedly Changed Evolutionary History.” 

He rolled his eyes at her again and turned back to his computer. Feeling a little less upset and more determined than ever, he opened the email containing his data and started the download.

His sequencing data ended up being a bit of a lost cause; there was not much to it but unhelpful noise. But he wasn’t trying for the whole genome to be legible. All Kei needed was one specific part: a somewhat novel gene that was previously theorized to have been spliced into the organism’s genome from its original place in the ribosomes. 

The only problem was finding it in this mess of squiggles and dots. 

He hated trying to figure out how to get his computer to do what he wanted it to do. It was frustrating, he’d had to dig through numerous books (“Python for Dummies,” and the like) only to come up empty. Then he had to trifle through various forum posts and videos on the internet for any helpful hints but most contained language he barely comprehended. He’d managed to decipher enough and had come up with something he thought might work, but then came the actual writing part, and Kei absolutely _despised_ coding. He’d taken one class on it in undergrad and immediately hated it. The little of it he knew seemed dumb and tedious and usually never yielded results. 

He wished he could just have Tetsu bug Kenma about it. Surely Kenma, of all people, would be able to get Kei’s computer to do exactly what he wanted, and in record time. Although, he supposed, he did still have Kenma’s number…

Kei froze, his hand already reaching for his phone. What the heck did he think he was doing?! As if he could ask for Kenma’s help! _You don’t just reach out to people you haven’t talked to in months just to get their help on something._ Besides, Kenma was probably...he probably wouldn’t oblige. Or, at least, Kei wouldn’t, in the same situation.

The blonde shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts from his brain. He was so stupid. Wasn’t he just determined this afternoon to do everything himself? 

With a sour taste in his mouth and an anxious prickle peeking out from a corner in his chest, Kei got back to business.

With his small amount of programming experience, he was able to rig up a couple sorting algorithms, but the coding process took him hours. By the time he’d run the first on his data, it was 7 o’clock and he’d been staring at his screen nonstop since lunch. 

Flinging off his glasses, he dropped his head to the desk and tried to let the cool surface become his focus. Kei figured that this program wouldn’t work and the error ping on his laptop only served to prove him right. He tried to keep the annoyance of spending all that time for nothing from becoming too big. 

With a sigh, Kei shoved his glasses back onto his face and tried to get back to his work. But any focus he’d claimed earlier was gone; the lines and colors on his screen ran together into a mishmash of nonsense that threatened to worsen the already quiet pounding in his head. His hands started to fidget, fingers twisting together, and he fumbled for his phone to occupy them.

Without tearing his unfocused gaze from his laptop screen, he clicked on his most recent notification, accidentally opening the message thread he’d previously decided to ignore. Kei looked down, terror bubbling up from his stomach, and before his shaky fingers could tap out of it, his eyes and his brain— _the fucking traitors_ —had already begun to read the last message.

Kei’s blood ran cold.

It was like he was looking at his life from a distance, like watching the events play out on a movie screen. Kei watched himself scroll all the way to the top of the thread, completely out of his control. And then he read.

_Kei, I have to say, I’m a bit disappointed._

_I figured you, of all people, would realize your childishness after a bit of time. And I gave you ample to organize your thoughts, but it seems, instead, you're just going to keep ignoring things. Since you’re dead set on being stubborn, I decided it was necessary for me to reach out—which I shouldn’t have to in the first place, you know. We are supposed to rely on each other. We are friends after all._

_And as someone who considers you their close friend, I hope you know that one of my other close friends has been hurt by the things you’ve done and said, if only they’d admit it to themselves. I would have never pegged you as someone who would shoot so low, but it seems I’ve been proven wrong again._

_I’m not just trying to admonish you here, but I do hope you realize you are simply running away from your problems instead of facing them like the adult you are. It's rather selfish._

_Please reconsider things; I would hate to lose a friend over this._

* * *

Words swirled around Kei’s head. They were truthful, and he knew it. He knew it, but having it written out in front of him, directed like knives into his heart—it was too much. 

_Disappointed._

_Childish._

_Reconsider_ —

He needed to get back to work. Needed to occupy his mind that was currently spiraling downward with annoyance, anxiety, hurt. Needed to fill himself up with correct programming, needed to find his DNA sequence, needed to start the paperwork for the project acquired by the university museum yesterday that they’d asked him to do. He needed to... He needed—

To get out of here. _Now._

Kei slammed out of his chair, phone dropping, long forgotten, under the bench. In a flurry of papers and cords, he shoved his way out the lab door, much to a headphone-wearing Sakura’s surprise and worry. 

He burst into the bathroom at the end of the second floor hallway, the one that had long been forgotten to archaeology students and professors alike. Kei threw open a stall door, locked it with trembling fingers, and sank to the floor as his legs gave out and his breaths came short and fast. 

He was fine. Everything was fine, everything was— he was—

    1. Tearing at the buttons of his collar because his shirt was suddenly choking him. 
    2. Balling his hands in his hair in effort to stop them from shaking. 
    3. Trying to match his breaths to regular counts.
    4. Very certain his heart was about to explode.
    5. **All of the above.**



Through the haze, he almost relished the pain of gasping and choking for breath, the terror of almost-convincing himself he was going to die, the paralyzing sickness curling in his stomach. He deserved it. He deserved this fear, this bone-deep, chest-clenching, absolute fear. In some sick, twisted way, it was grounding. It reminded him of the type of person he was. 

He disappointed people. So many people. His friends. His family. The most important person to him. He’d made a decision that made sense at the time but, looking back, proved his inexperience and inner fears, and now, his pride was too big to simply swallow, go back, and apologize. 

He was childish. Selfish. _Stupid_. Everything he’d built up, he’d purposefully torn apart like it meant nothing to him. _Eight years_ —

Now, he was going to lose one of his closest friends. And the rest were sure to follow because who wanted to stay friends with a liar, a bully, a _hypocrite_? The rest of his life would soon join the slow march away from Kei’s desperate grip. His goals, his dreams, _everything_.

A fresh wave of anxiety tore through him, ripping the air from his lungs completely and stinging his eyes. He curled up against the bathroom stall door, trying to focus on _anything_ else, but things were quickly falling away and the edges of his vision dimmed and blurred. Things were pushing fast and far into _oh god I’m going to die I can’t breathe_ territory and soon would be past the point of no return if Kei didn’t do something. 

At his wit’s end and nearing complete loss of control, Kei scrambled at straws. He poured his last sliver of consciousness into frantically listing names: _Maniraptora alvarezsauridae. Eusauropoda mamenchisaurus. Pterodactylus occidentalis._ Inhale.

Anything to bring him back from the edge. Anything to keep him here, present. Anything to hold onto the steering wheel.

 _Stegosaurus stenops. Carcharocles megalodon. Deinonychus antirrhopus._ Exhale. 

Nothing else. Nothing else mattered more than his own breath. His own heartbeat. These names.

 _Maniraptora alvarezsauridae. Eusauropoda mamenchisaurus._ Inhale.

 _Pterodactylus occidentalis_. _Stegosaurus stenops._ Exhale. 

_Carcharocles megalodon. Inhale._

_Deinonychus antirrhopus._ Exhale. 

* * *

His mantra continued and he focused on timing his breaths to the rhythmic beat of the familiar genus-species names. Kei let himself go, into the pattern established long ago. 

It was an idea he’d come up with his therapist years ago, after his first, big panic attack. His therapist had sat next to him after he got back from that training camp and asked him what he liked. 

_Volleyball_ , he’d answered quietly, as if it were a secret. Because it sort of _was_. He would never have admitted it to anyone else at that point. 

_Something unrelated to volleyball_ , they’d responded.

_Science?_

_More specific?_

... _Dinosaurs_?

With a kind smile, his therapist told him that would be the beginning. The first, thin thread he’d later braid into his lifeline. It would fill out as he learned different things, different methods for different situations. But it started with his desire to change, to learn how to be better; it started with _dinosaurs_. 

Together, they’d come up with this, something simple yet detailed enough to take his entire focus. Kei picked some of his favorite dinosaurs, they looked up the scientific names together, and wrote them down. It was easy to memorize, since he’d known some of them for a long time. They would then transform into something new, become something incredibly helpful at the most dire of times. Kei just had to be diligent at putting it into practice. 

Who would’ve thought he’d come back to that, his beginning, at a time like now, when he had so many other tools in his pocket, so many threads woven into the rope. But, he found himself thinking, it was rather fitting. Ridiculously and infuriatingly poetic.

God knows how long Kei sat there, heart pounding and mind racing to regain control. But the way his body complained about being stuck in a tense, anxious limbo when he finally came back to the world around him was more than telling of the passage of time. 

He smirked to himself, tired and a little self-loathing. Now, that he was calm (and more than exhausted), Kei had half a mind to wonder if Tetsurou would ever find out that he was not only what tipped him off the ledge Kei had carefully set himself on after years of ignoring his anxieties, but also, and perhaps more importantly, the beginning of his mental rehabilitation. 

But no, he shook his head, he would never get to tell Tetsu that their conversation that night in the third gym had triggered him. He’d probably never get the chance to talk to him ever again, let alone discuss his triggers.

With shaky breaths, Kei pushed himself to his feet, hands still trembling slightly as he smoothed down the front of his slacks, brushed off his sweater. He clenched and opened them a few times to fight back the tremors before unlocking the stall door and slowly nudging past it to the sink. Gripping the sides of the white porcelain, he raised his eyes to the mirror. 

A flushed face, golden eyes dark and slightly crazed behind thick-rimmed glasses, stared back at him. He turned on the cold water faucet and discarded his glasses to the edge of the sink. 

He was so tired. He hated panic attacks so much. They took everything good from him, leaving him with all the things he didn’t want to see. But he couldn’t look away—he was so, _so_ tired, so he had no choice but to face them. For better or for worse. 

As he splashed his face in an attempt to regain his composure, rubbed cold water over his eyes and burning cheeks, Kei realized something he probably should have months ago. 

Getting over a breakup was just as hard as it was painted in those stupid romance manga Tadashi still read. 

He could throw himself into his research and his job, could smile lie after lie to his friends and family, could direct all his anger at his ex—but these thoughts, these feelings, weren’t so easily dealt with. 

It had been _eight years_ , damn it. _Eight years of his life_.

Akaashi was right—he couldn’t just give up on this so easily. He’d been a fool to try.

A whirlwind of memories—soft laughter and harsh words, intimacy and distance, lazy contentment and panicked anger—battered around inside of him, whipping into each other like the lost cacophony of sounds a strong tsunami meeting the skyscrapers of Tokyo makes. 

Kei straightened, dried his face, and pushed his glasses back into place. As he took a deep breath, usual cold poker face settling back onto his face, the blonde man made up his mind.

He wanted to apologize. He wanted to try again. He wouldn’t let eight years of his life become nothing but memories.

Well, if Tetsu would let him.

Kei headed back to his lab, noting the darkness outside the window at the end of the hall. He opened the door and switched on the light.

His space had been tidied, papers neatly stacked into small piles. His phone was placed on top of his now-closed laptop along with a note from Sakura.

_I hope everything’s alright! Since I don’t know when you’ll be back, I put your things away. Don’t hesitate to reach out, if you need to! I’m always happy to listen ^^_

She was really too nice for her own good. 

Kei gathered his things, putting them neatly in his bag. Despite the fact that he’d just dealt with his first full-fledged panic attack in a long while, he felt strangely at ease. Like all the anxiety and worry had been used up, leaving only a new motivation burning within him, settling warm in his chest.

He knew what he had to do, but… going about it would be difficult. At least, he assumed so with how both of them had acted last weekend. Well. It didn’t matter. He was going to get closure for this, no matter the outcome. 

When he settled into a seat on his train ride home that night, Kei tapped back to Akaashi’s messages, reading and rereading them. He ought to thank his friend for clearing his mind. Or maybe it was too early for that just yet; Akaashi might still be in a foul mood. Kei sighed and stared at his reflection in the train window’s dark glass before him. 

He looked tired, the dark circles under his eyes serving no purpose but to give him and his vices away. Tired, but...somehow without the dullness that had weighed down on him since summer. His eyes shined, alight with a new hope.

With a small smile, Kei allowed himself to daydream a bit. He wondered how soon he’d be able to see Tetsurou’s face again and that stupid mop of soft hair and that soft smile reserved only for him... Wondered…no, _hoped_ he would get the chance. 

He almost missed his stop. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (pls don't perceive my bogus attempt at computer science, i barely know what i'm doing. i'm trying to keep my science talk to a minimum but sometimes nerd brain takes over 😔😔 if anyone is confused, i would be happy to explain it more, but you can also probably define a few things with a rudimentary google. feel free to ask any questions tho!!)
> 
> summary if you skipped the big Anxious Moment: kei gets some texts from akaashi that trigger him; things swirl out of control. he tries to salvage the situation by going back to his roots, reciting dinosaur names (a big hc i have that is unshakeable at this point fite me).
> 
> also- to the people who read this earlier... i know akaashi seems to be pretty rude and un-friend-like. i am very aware. sometimes people purposefully say mean things because ~emotions~ and have to deal with those mistakes later. all in good time, friends. all in good time. akaashi keiji is literally one of my favorite characters ever (i get him every time i do one of those goddamn hq quizzes, apparently we're the same person, it's ridiculous) and he's also one of my fave people in this fic, so don't worry! 
> 
> also... my sakura chiyo (best girl!!)- she's not the same character as in gsnk, but i borrowed her name and general character design (short height, red hair, green eyes) because i am purposefully including some of the things i love the most in this fic.


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